


A Tale of Two Doctors

by charlottesweb



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC
Genre: Crossover Pairings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 42,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottesweb/pseuds/charlottesweb
Summary: This is a story about Doctor Strange and Doctor Watson. Doctor Watson comes to Doctor Strange for help after he is injured in Afghanistan. The two are drawn towards each other in ways that neither understands. Then the eye of agamotto develops a virus that threatens to destroy the power of the sling rings and Doctor Strange and Doctor Watson must work together to save earth.





	1. Chapter 1

Doctor John Watson waited in the courtyard, wanting to leave, yet too tired to move. Why he decided to seek out Doctor Strange was beyond him. After being injured in Afghanistan, he had been diagnosed with PTSD, which caused him to limp, and a bullet wound which led to a frozen shoulder. He drank too much and his career was all but a thing of the past. One night, while he sat on the edge of his bed in a military transition house, he attempted to kill himself with his service revolver. His shoulder had locked up and the gun had clattered to the ground in a useless metal heap. _I couldn’t even blow my own brains out,_ he thought, shivering.

A silken voice reached out through the darkness. “Doctor John Hamish Watson, tell me why you have come to study at Kathmandu?”

“Jesus,” John swore his heart pounding. He looked around him, seeing nothing. “Alright, I get it. Let’s make fun of the crippled Doctor. Well, I don’t need this. I only came here after reading some bloody esoteric article in the Metaphysical Digest, while waiting in my therapist’s office. But you know what? You and your bloody cult can just go to hell. Screw you.” Then as best he could he limped out of the courtyard, muttering to himself. _I’m broke. I can’t go home to my sister Harriette. We don’t get on. Dad’s dead and Mum is well who knows where she got off to. Maybe I can make my way to the British consulate where I can get assistance in obtaining a plane ticket home. God, I’ve messed up this time. No job prospects, no loving family, no money, just a wounded broken spirt. I wish I were dead._ He then stumbled out the doors into the dusty street.

His head ached. There were so many people, so many sights and sounds. A man pushed a hand cart to his right, causing him to stumble. Everything seemed too bright, too defined, too noisy. He sank to the ground, putting his head in his hands, then began to rock. _Oh, god no, please not here._ The smell of frying animal flesh sent him over the edge. His body trembled, then his stomach cramped up and his last meager meal spewed forth out of his mouth. Edging away from his regurgitation, he attempted to stand, only to fall back to the ground. Dust flew around him when his body hit the dirt.   _Bloody hell, all I need to do is shit myself to make this crappy day complete._ When his stomach gurgled, John swore. _Dear God above, why couldn’t you just let me off myself?_

“You okay?”

John looked up at a small woman, who looked down at him in pity.   _Why can’t I just lay in my own bloody vomit and die?_ “Yes, now please just go away.”

The woman remained until John, took his cane and shook it at her. “Get out of here. Leave me alone.”

Doctor Strange watched the discourse from a distance. The man was a lost cause. Though he knew in his mind that Doctor Watson was too cynical, too damaged and too bitter to help, he paused. _He’s broken, just as I was, just as I am._

John wanted to cry, but didn’t, he just crawled to an empty space beside a building, and curled up into a ball.

“You give up too easy, Doctor Watson, you are going to be a lot of trouble.”

John looked up at the man who spoke, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. The man stepped to the left so that John’s vision was shaded in shadow. He was dressed in some sort of martial arts outfit, with a red cape that billowed around his broad shoulders and lithe torso. “Who are you?”

“I’m Doctor Strange. You give up too easily, Doctor Watson.”

“What do you know? How can you possibly know how I feel?”

Doctor Strange held out his shaking hands for John to inspect. “A lot more than you think Doctor Watson.” John traced his trembling scared fingers with his own. “Sorry, I was a being a dick earlier. Can you tell me if there is a British Consulate around here?”

“They’ll be closed by now, come back with me and rest.” He then held out his hand.

John ignored it, attempting to stand on his own. He had just about wobbled to his feet, when a group of children ran by, causing him to lose his balance. In an instant, Doctor Strange’s red cape reached out, wrapping itself around his legs, pulling him into an embrace with its master.

Doctor Strange, looked down at the man in his arms, almost dropping him when a jolt of energy raced through his body. _What the hell was that?_

“What the hell was that?” John asked.

“It’s the cape. It does strange things.”

John nodded, still folded in Doctor Strange’s grasp. “Um, you can let go now.”

Doctor Strange studied John’s face. _He’s going to pass out any minute._

“I’m fine, so let go,” John ordered, ignoring the feeling of light headedness that assailed him.

“And one, two…

“Why are you counting off?” Then his eyes fluttered and John collapsed.

“Three,” Doctor Strange whispered, gathering up John’s limp body, allowing the cape to hold them both tight. He then looked down at his gaunt, pale face. _You are going to be a lot of trouble Doctor John Hamish Watson._


	2. Fickle Fever

“Get me a basin of cold water, now,” Doctor Strange shouted, kicking the doors open to Karmatage, being careful not to bump John’s head on the wooden double doors. Students scurried to do his bidding, while he carried John into a quiet room. “Help, me get his clothes off. We need to cool his body temperature, STAT.” When John had been divested of his clothing, Doctor Strange gasped. _Jesus, he’s so thin._ Then he quelled down his emotions and let the Doctor in him take over. His eyes landed on the nearest student. “You over there, go out and have the students collect as many buckets of snow as they can. I need someone else to wheel in a tub basin. Hurry.” The students nodded, then ran to do his bidding.

The cape of levitation, detached itself from his shoulders, then came back a few moments later with his medical bag. Doctor Strange looked up at it. “Umm…thank you.” The cape swirled around in pleasure before it dropped itself once more around his shoulders. He then took a flashlight out of his bag, shinning it into John’s eyes, while he felt his skin tone. “He’s dehydrated, malnourished, possibly anemic.” Hearing no answer, he continued with his examination, pausing to study the shoulder that bore evidence of a shooting. Closing his eyes, he projected himself inside John’s physiology, feeling the trajectory of the bullet, wincing when it tore through bone and muscle, destroying everything in its path. _Jesus, the pain must have been unbearable._ He opened his eyes, when the bullet’s path popped through the other side of John’s shoulder blade, then watched the students while they lifted his limp body, packing it in ice.

“Sir, I don’t think he’s breathing.”

“Step back.” Doctor Strange ordered, then felt for a pulse. _Damn, he’s giving up._ “I’m going to look for him on the astral plane. Catch me before I fall.” Then without another word he was gone, searching for John’s spirit. He floated through the air hovering above John’ body, where it lay packed in ice.

John floated above his own body, looking down at it in disinterest. _Good riddance._

“Doctor Watson.”

John swirled around to see Doctor Strange’s astral projection beside his own. “What is this? Am I dead?”

Doctor Strange pushed through the air, closing the distance between them. “No, but you are dying and I don’t know why. You just have a fever.”

John smiled. “What does it matter? Let me go.”

Doctor Strange gripped his arm. “No, not until I know why. Did you take something?”

“Nope, but I’ll give you a hint, clavicle bone.”

Doctor Strange thought, then snapped his long, spectral fingers. “Subclavian artery. Its blocked.”

“Very good, but it’s too late. You have no way of performing surgery.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Doctor Watson.” Then Doctor Strange morphed back into his physical body. He gasped sat up and without a word ran to the library. He brushed by Wong, the librarian, then detached the eye of agamotto from its perch. “Sorry, Wong, I’ll explain later.”

Once he reached John’s room, he closed his eyes, then performed the ritual that would allow a quick time loop, back to the time where John fell in the alley. _If I can stop him from falling, then the clavicle bone will not chip and block the subclavian artery. He’ll live._

Time reversed itself, rewinding, until the moment John stumbled. Before he hit the ground Doctor Strange caught him. John’s eyes widened. “What the hell? Where did you come from?”

Doctor Strange remained silent, until his own heart rate slowed. _What strange effect is this? Why does Doctor John Watson make my skin tingle and my heart rate spike?_ “Come Doctor Watson, you have a high fever and if I my calculations correct you are about to throw…” At that moment John vomited over the two of them. “…up.” The cape of levitation brushed off the few remnants that sullied its velvet red surface, then fell back into place around its master and John.

John looked down. “I’m sorry.”

Doctor Strange gazed into the depths of John’s blue eyes, fascinated by the way they drew him in. “Don’t apologize, Doctor Watson. Let’s get you inside. Then we’ll get your fever down and you can decide whether you want to go to the consulate or not.”

Once inside the doors, the cape disengaged itself from its master’s shoulders, then it wrapped itself around John, carrying him to an empty room. Doctor Strange followed, barking out orders for buckets of ice to be brought to John’s room. John lay on the bed looking pale and morose. “What the hell is that thing?” he asked, pointing to the cape when it hovered above his bed.

“It’s the cape of levitation and it seems to have taken a liking to you.” Doctor Strange then looked at the cape. “Well, are you going to stay with him or come with me?” The cape hovered between the two of them in indecision. “Fine, stay with him if you want. Fickle thing.” At the last minute, the cape flew to his side, draping itself once more around his shoulders. Doctor Strange smiled. “Doctor Watson, you have a high fever. Please don’t give my students any trouble when they put you in an ice bath. I would hate to have to strand you in another dimension.”

John gave him a defiant look. Doctor Strange smiled, then frowned when he felt the fear lurking behind John’s eyes, not because he feared death, but because he feared life. Doctor Strange paused, then did something different, he walked forward to reassure a patient. With hesitant steps, he approached the tub where John had been deposited. His hands shook more than usual when he reached towards John’s pale face. He touched him, shivering when a familiar jolt of energy raced through his system. _I feel like I’m the one with the fever._ “Everything is going to be okay, Doctor Watson.” Doctor Strange whispered while he stroked John’s forehead. Then noticing his students were staring, he got up and left.

***

When John opened his eyes, he lay wrapped in cold compresses.

“His fever is still high. Should we get Doctor Strange?” A voice whispered.

“No, don’t disturb him.” Another voice whispered back.

John wanted to put in his own two cents, but lost consciousness before he could heap a string of obscenities on his caretakers.

***

Doctor Strange massaged the cracked face of his watch with his fingertips. Being a Master was rewarding but it was also lonely, just as lonely as being a top-notch surgeon, except this time it was all about others’ welfare and not his own. He shivered into the folds of his cape, smiling when it rubbed its collar against his cheekbones. “I’m fine, you fickle thing.” The cape shivered in pleasure whenever spoken to directly. He then closed his eyes, attempting to meditate. Useless. It was useless. His mind couldn’t focus. He had to know how Doctor Watson was getting on. _No, don’t go check on him. If his condition had worsened, your students would have fetched you. But maybe there is an underlying problem that they wouldn’t have noticed. I’d better check on him myself._

He then got up and made his way to Doctor Watson’s room, feeling invigorated, even though he hadn’t meditated all day.  


	3. To Serve and Protect

Doctor Strange looked down at John, analyzing him. Though he looked frail and thin, Doctor Strange knew better. He closed his eyes, imagining Doctor Watson twenty pounds heavier, strong, tan, handsome. Handsome, really? Stephen, you’ve been cooped up too long.   
John opened his eyes, confused he reached for a non-existent gun, looking at Doctor Strange as if they’d never met. “Where am I?” he demanded, attempting to arrange his body into a defensive position.  
“Doctor Watson, it’s alright, you’re safe.”  
That voice, that gorgeous voice, dripping with richness and seduction. Then the previous day’s events came back to him. Shit, I’ve just made an ass of myself in front of his highness supreme or whatever the hell Doctor Stephen Strange calls himself. Pompous ass. Look at him staring as if he owns me. John thought, then let his mind wander, imagining himself Strange’s possession to do with as he willed. A flush rose to his cheeks, while confusing thoughts bombarded his already taxed emotions. Strange.  
Doctor Strange’s brows furrowed in concern when he noted the crimson hue that sprung up on John’s face and neck. He walked over and placed a cool hand on his forehead. “You feel warm to the touch. You should rest here another day before you head out.”  
John folded his arms across his chest. Cold, I’m so cold. “Who said I’m leaving? I haven’t made up my mind yet.”  
Doctor Strange grinned, then bowed. “As you wish, Doctor. I will have some soup and a sleeping remedy brought in to you.”  
John felt panic rise in his chest. “Sleep?”  
Doctor Strange’s green eyes peered John’s, they were intent like a bird of prey, then without reason they softened. “I can help with the nightmares, if you wish me to.”  
John opened his mouth to protest, then clamped it shut. Sleep, without circus dreams. What would that be like? He then nodded, indicating that he would like to proceed.   
“I’m going to put my thumb on your forehead to assist in projecting you into your astral body and into another dimension. Are you ready?”  
John swallowed. “Yes, I’m ready.” When he felt Doctor Strange push the center of his third eye, he felt peaceful, his body became light, then his heart rate sped up when he looked down and noticed he and Doctor Strange’s temporal bodies lying side by side. What the hell?  
Doctor Watson, it’s alright, keep your eyes fixed on me.  
John did as he was told and relaxed. They moved weightless from one dimension to the next, until their bodies rested in a field of grass, while monarch butterflies flew around them. Then John strained his ears. I hear music. What is that?  
“America Pie, by Don McLean.”  
John hummed along. “I love this song, brilliant album 1971, top of the charts.”  
“Actually, American Pie the single topped the charts for four weeks in 1972.”  
“Smart ass.”  
Doctor Strange grinned and without checking he knew that his astral lips and temporal lips were both drawn up into a smile.  
The faint sound of gunfire, punctured its way into John’s tenuous sense of security. His shoulder and leg began to throb.  
“Doctor Watson, rest, those sounds are from another dimension. They cannot hurt you.”  
John closed his eyes, while Doctor Strange massaged away the knots that had formed in the muscles around his occipital lobe. Feels so good.  
Doctor Strange waited until John was asleep, before he scooped him up in his arms, taking him back to their own dimension.  
When John awoke, he was once more in bed. Doctor Strange sat sipping a cup of tea, while he thumbed through an ancient looking manuscript. He looked over when John sat up. “I’m sorry did I wake you?”  
John shook his head and yawned. “No, did I dream that you took me to another dimension or did that happen?”  
Doctor Strange closed the book, then poured another cup of tea and brought it over to John. “No, you didn’t dream it.”  
John took the cup from Strange’s trembling fingers, then leaned back. “I haven’t slept like that since I was a kid. How long have I been out?”  
Doctor Strange clasped his shaking hands behind his back. “Since yesterday.”  
“Yesterday? Jesus, I’ve got to get up.”  
Doctor Strange was by his side in an instant. “Whoa, you’re not going anywhere until you’re stronger.”  
John nodded and sat back down. “I think I might want to…stay.” He then looked at Doctor Strange, gaging his reaction. To his surprise, Strange seemed nervous.  
“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Watson.”  
John smiled. “Please call me John, I mean if it’s permitted.”  
“It’s permitted and please call me Stephen, except when we’re in martial arts training class, then it’s Doctor Strange or Master Strange.”  
“Umm, well okay. Where am I to stay? I mean is this my room?”   
“No, it’s mine.” Seeing the surprised look on John’s face, Strange continued on. “We’ve had to double up. It’s spirit training week.”  
“Spirit training week?”  
“Yes, once a year one of the Sanctums holds a spirit training week. This year it was our turn. I think you’ll enjoy it. Our first class starts at 4 a.m., you can watch if you wish. We have an inside viewing deck, so that you can stay…warm.”  
John felt his hackles rise. “I’m not some kind of invalid. I am Doctor and a soldier.”  
“John, do you trust me?”  
Do I trust him? Is he serious? Yes, Sensei, I am your faithful grasshopper. John looked down, then back into Strange’s penetrating gaze. “I have trust issues,” he mumbled.   
“It’s okay John, all of us who have come to Kamar-Taj are broken.”  
John looked up at Strange’s imposing figure. “Don’t you mean were broken?”  
Strange held out his scarred, shaking hands. “No, we remain broken forever. Kamar-Jaj only mends and heals. No matter what is reflected on the outside, the scars remain.”  
“Then what’s the point?” John snapped.  
Strange smiled, a smile that would break the heart of anyone perceptive enough to read its tragic curve. “To serve and protect others, so that they don’t suffer the same fate.”


	4. Beyond Redemption?

John looked down at the figures in the courtyard, watching one, singling him out from the rest. Strange. Strange barked out orders in a clear concise manner. His voice reaching up to John’s ears, its tone firm yet gentle. _Everything word he utters is tinged in sadness. I can sense the tragic bent of his soul. Like understands like. Why do I feel like we’re connected? I just met him. Could it be that I have decided to trust Doctor Strange of all people? I don’t trust people easily, yet I trust him._

Doctor Strange and his students ran through the snow covered courtyard in their bare feet, while he spoke to them. “Don’t feel the cold or the burn when the ice bites into your flesh. Keep focused. The courtyard has been swept clean. You will not cut your feet. You are safe.” He ran with them, stopped just outside their circle to note their progress, then turned to face the balcony when familiar chills began to run up and down his spine. His eyes sought John’s and even though he was high above them, Doctor Strange knew where his gaze lay. It lay on him. _What’s wrong with me? If I didn’t know better, I’d think I had a thing for the good Doctor Watson. What would bad Doctor Watson be like? Oh god, what am I doing? Christine, think of her._ Though he tried, Doctor Strange could not make his thoughts stray away from the images that plagued him. _Doctor Watson dressed in battle fatigues, ready to discipline and punish. STOP NOW._

John watched while a student led the group through sets of kicks and punches, then in the complex patterns known as Katas. He recognized some of them, others he didn’t. The class didn’t split up into different divisions, which surprised him. They all worked together to achieve their goals, helping each other along the way. _No competition? That’s strange._ Then he chuckled at the play on words. His breath came out in a cold wisp. He noted the difference between his warm breath and frigid air, fascinated by the contrast between the two.

“Doctor Watson?”

“What?” he snapped irritated that the young woman had snuck up on him.

She bowed. “Master Strange gave orders that you were not to remain outside too long.”

“Oh really? I’m a full grown man capable of taking care of myself.”

“You had a dangerously high fever last night. We were all concerned for you.”

“Everybody was? Even, even Doctor Stephen Strange?”

The woman nodded. “Especially, Doctor Strange.”

John’s eyes narrowed ready to ask just what the hell she was insinuating, but there was no guile in her face. Her gentle brown eyes searched his and he felt like an asshole for snapping at her the way he had. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that this…all of this is so different.”

“I understand. I too was angry when I first came here but things will get better. You will see. Master Strange is a good teacher.”

Anxious to get the subject off Strange, he asked an un-Strange related question. “Do things ever get worse for anyone? I mean are some beyond hope.”

“No one is beyond hope, but there are some that cannot be redeemed.”

He pulled his coat tighter around him. “You mean some people are just too evil?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, for some life in this dimension is just too lonely. They have cut themselves off from others so long that they no longer see a future. They give up and die.”

“Well, aren’t you a bundle of cheer?”

The woman cocked her head to one side. “You asked the question, not I.”

John rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever, can I get some of that good tea?”

She smiled. “Sure, it would be my pleasure.” A few moments later she came back and John watched her perform the tea ceremony, taking pleasure in its consistency, its military precision.

Doctor Strange ended the class with a sense of anticipation, and after a quick bath he made his way to his room, smoothing his hair back before he knocked on the door.

“John?” No answer. “John?” Still no answer. After the third knock, he opened the door. John lay  asleep on the bed, his mouth open, snoring. _Hmm, don’t like the sound of that. Sounds as if he as a blockage. A deviated septum, perhaps, or worse yet a heart defect? I wonder if his subclavian artery is blocked again._ With the stealth of an exotic cat, he made his way to John’s side, then closed his eyes, touching the place where the human heart rested in its thoracic cage, protected. He became so engrossed by the inner workings of John’s body that he jumped when a cold hand gripped his wrist. He gasped when the transformation from his astral body to his temporal body took place, shuddering from the ill effects of a rough transition.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” John asked, his voice full of confusion and anger.

Doctor Strange took a few deep breaths. “You’re breathing was somewhat irregular. I was checking your heart.”

“Then why is your hand below my ribcage?”

Doctor Strange looked down at his long fingers where they lay splayed thumb to pinkie, from John’s ribcage to the tip of his hip bone. He jerked his hand away. “You can relax, John, I was checking your chakra points, nothing more. Oh, and by the way I’m straight.”

John clenched his jaw, then folded his arms across his chest. “Good to know so am I.”

“Well, now that’s settled would you like to know what I found?”

John looked away, then back again. “Proceed.”

A smile twitched around Doctor Strange’s lips. “There is a small nick in your clavicle bone from where you were shot. This is putting some pressure on the subclavian artery. Have you been getting dizzy spells, blackouts, nausea and trouble sleeping?”

“Yes, but my doctors told me it was my PTSD.”

“They were wrong. Though some of your symptoms can be contributed to PTSD, not all of them can. You may have to have a stint put in to prevent a rupture.”

“How come it didn’t show up on my MRI and why didn’t any of my other Doctors concur with your diagnosis?”

Strange shrugged. “They’re idiots, only seeing with their optic nerves.”

John sighed. “And I suppose you have some esoteric way to fix it?”

“No, you’ll need surgery. There was a time I could have performed it myself, but well those days are gone.” Strange then looked down at his trembling hands, trying not to blame and despise himself for an accident that could have been prevented.

John looked at the man who stood before him. Sorrow radiated from his heart to his bowed head and slumped shoulders. Defeat, John knew that posture well. “Can’t you fix yourself through another dimension?”

Strange smiled at John through tear filled eyes. “I could, but it’s not all about me. There are bigger things at stake. When you are, ready I will show you.”

John nodded, then looked down at his own hands. They were strong and steady. “I’m sorry for being such an asshole.”

Strange grinned. “No worries. I’m well acquainted with the asshole dimension. It was my former residence.”

John laughed, then his expression sobered. “What am I going to do?”

“You are going to get some rest.” Strange then sat down in a hard-backed chair.

John grimaced. “That thing looks brutal. Is that where you’re going to sleep?”

Strange moved his head around in circles to loosen it. “It will do.”

“It’s freezing cold. We can share.” John said, scooting over.

Strange licked his lips, shivered then approached the bed and with one tentative move he sat down on its edge, then eased his long body in beside John’s. “Good-night, John and don’t worry I won’t grope you.”

John laughed, then watched Strange turn down the lamp above them. “Good-night, Stephen. That sounds kind of weird. Do you mind if I call you Strange?”

Strange smiled. “Strange is less strange than Stephen? It’s no matter. Call me Strange if you want to.”

“Good night, Strange.”

“Good night, John.”


	5. Haunted

When John awoke, he was alone in the bed. Strange was getting dressed, though it was still dark outside. He watched in fascination while Strange reached down, pulling a pair of pants over a well-muscled ass, causing John to stare when both cheeks squeezed together then disappeared into folds of fabric. His mouth watered, causing him to swallow, then cough.

Strange turned around shirtless, his pants loose from not being tied tight. “I’m sorry did I wake you?”

“No, I don’t sleep well.”

Strange continued tying his uniform into place. “Well, we’ll have to fix that.”

John licked his lips. “What do you mean?”

Strange took a step closer. “What do you think I mean?”

_What the hell is this? Is he flirting with me?_ “I don’t know. You’re the teacher, aren’t you?”

Strange smiled, continuing to dress. “You mean the Master?” When John didn’t quip back, Strange looked disappointed. “Your first class starts today. Your temperature is normal, but I’ve given instructions to let you sleep as long as possible.”

“How do you know my temperature is normal?”  When Strange didn’t answer, John flushed. “You didn’t take…take it…”

Strange laughed. It was a beautiful sound, like the bark of a Mastiff or Russian Wolfhound. “Relax, I monitored it on the astral plane.”

 John huffed. “The astral plane is fine, up the ass not so much.”

“And here we are again talking about rectums and such.” Strange locked eyes with John, until his chest tightened with the need for air. _Breathe, Strange._  “Your meditation class starts at noon, until then rest and relax. “I’ll send a student to come for you.”

John propped his head up on a pillow, until he was in an upright position. “You aren’t going to come for me yourself?”

It was Strange’s turn to blush. “Not this time. Now get some rest.” Then without turning back he left.

John leaned back in the bed, covering his face with his pillow. _Jesus, John you’re an idiot._

Strange hurried down the hall in code blue mode until he reached the library. He sighed in relief when he noticed Wong sitting behind his desk. _All is right with the world._

Wong watched Strange picking out a few large volumes. “Wow, time for the big guns, something must be troubling you.”

Strange pursed his lips, opened them, then clamped them shut again. “Nothing is troubling me. I’m just keeping up.”

Wong’s eyes narrowed until they appeared to be shut. “No, something is bothering you. Is it the new student, the Doctor, or could it be the fact that you broke the laws of nature, using the powers of the eye of Agamotto to bring him back to life?”

Strange paced, then stopped. “There’s just something about him. He gets under my skin without saying a word.”

“Could it be that he reminds you of yourself?”

Strange shook his head. “No, other than the fact we’re both Doctors we have nothing in common. I would never have risked my life on the battlefield to save others. Doctor Watson was injured in the line of duty. I was injured in a careless car accident, due to my own arrogance.”

An enigmatic look clouded Wong’s eyes. “Doctor Watson has come to us for a reason. Together you will discover his potential.”

Strange’s eyes narrowed. “Together all of us will discover his potential.”

“Why does it bother you that I pair you two together? After all you let him share your room. You could have had him triple up with a couple of other students.”

“He was sick and in danger. I needed to keep an eye on him.”

Wong shrugged. “Whatever, you say, but it sounds like your haunted. ‘I know if I’m haunting you, you must be haunting me’”

Strange rolled his eyes. “I am so sorry that I turned you on to Beyoncé.” He then left, ignoring Wong as he sang, ‘My wicked tongue, where will it be?’

A sense of loneliness made Strange feel heavy and ill at ease. _Protecting the universe is lonely business._ He was about to drown himself in sorrow, when he felt the cape of levitation drape itself around his shoulders. Its red folds caressed his arms. _Thank you for the reminder that I’m not always alone,_ he thought, petting the soft material, noting with amusement when the cape shivered in delight. _Fickle thing, you deserted me to carry John Watson across the courtyard. It seems his charms are not lost on you, either. Either?_ That one small word pounded in Strange’s brain, until he willed it into submission. He had a class to teach, time to get back to work.

John woke up to find the sun already up. _I haven’t over slept in ages. What the hell was in that cup of tea Strange sent up?_ He then sniffed at the remnants in his teacup, shrugged setting the cup down on the table next to the bed. Then he yawned again, shivering and stretching like a cat, stopping when he caught a whiff of Strange’s scent on the pillow next to him. _He even smells good, arrogant bastard, not like stale cologne or aftershave, but like musk, earth, and cinnamon. Cinnamon or was it rosemary? It reminded him of something. Maybe the holidays when his grandma had been alive, baking goodies for the family like she did every year, but what about the musk? That certainly wasn’t a cooking scent. Jesus, John get it together. So, Doctor Strange smells like sex and holiday dinner, nothing wrong with that, right?_ When a knock sounded at the door, he threw the pillow on the ground, noting the whiff of scent that hit his nostrils when it hit the floor.

“Doctor Watson?” a voice called out.

“Yes, just a minute,” John called out while he picked up the pillow, tossing it on to the bed. He then smoothed his hair down and opened the door. “Yes?”

The same woman who brought him tea the other day stood in the doorway, with a tray of food and of course more tea. “Master Strange sent me up with food for you and a reminder that meditation class will start in an hour. He will come for you then.”

_Oh, he will, will he? I thought he was going to send a minion to come for me?_ John smiled. “Okay, right, I’ll be ready, mustn’t keep the Master waiting.”

The woman pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“So, what would he do? Make me run laps?”

The woman smiled. “He would take you to task. You would not like it.” Then she paused and smirked. “Well, maybe you would, Doctor Watson.”

After she left John made a face. “Maybe you would, Doctor Watson,” he mimicked, ignoring the pounding of his heart while he ate, struggling to get ready. A half hour later he scowled at himself in the mirror. “Between my leg and frozen shoulder, I can barely put clothes on. I look a wreck.”

“You look fine,” a familiar voice purred, “except that you have the top half of your uniform tied incorrectly.”

John whirled around. “Don’t you ever knock?”

Strange looked non-pulsed. “I did.”

“Fine,” John snapped while he struggled to undo his shirt.

Strange stepped forward. “Here let me help.”

John was about to slap his hands away, then he looked down. They shook. _It can’t be easy for Strange to let me see him this way. He was a world class surgeon, now he’s just a guru, sensei, cult leader, whatever. The least I can do is to quit being such a prick._ “Please show me.”

Strange smiled a sad smile, while he guided John’s fingers with his own trembling, deformed ones. When he was finished, he stepped back. “There you look fine, now. Remember this is similar to a gi uniform, the top half is left over right, always. The only time the right is over the left is when a warrior has died.”

John smiled. “Good to know Master Strange.”

Strange bowed. “Are you ready for your first session Doctor Watson?”


	6. Strange Tea

John hobbled to keep up with Strange. “Strange, could you slow down. I can’t keep up.”

Strange crossed over to where John stood panting in a couple of long strides. “Even though I can, I won’t. Keep up.”

“Blast,” John swore, then limped after Strange’s retreating figure. By the time, they reached their destination, his legs shook with fatigue. _Bloody hell, I’m going to vomit. Well, I won’t in front of him. I won’t. Why is the room swirling?_

“John, Doctor Watson, drink this.” Strange hovered over him. John shook in his arms, tears of humiliation and anger brimming in their red-rimmed corners. “Sssh, it’s okay. Drink the tea; it will help with the nausea.”

John’s hands shook when he took the cup from Strange’s trembling hands. Then John laughed when the liquid contents dripped out along the sides. “We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?”

Strange smiled then turned his head away, ducking his chin down in a shy sideways movement. “Yes, we are. To the best of times John Watson,” he said in a soft voice, then he held up his cup of tea.

John smiled back, losing his train of thought while he stared into the depths of Strange’s green eyes. He then cleared his throat. “Yes, to the best of times, Stephen Strange.” After a few sips of tea, John looked up at Strange in amazement. “Wow, that’s bloody good. What’s in it? It took my nausea away, just like that. What’s in it?”

“Cannabis and chamomile.”

“Cannabis as in marijuana, pot, weed?”

Strange sighed. “Yes, but the THC has been filtered out, so you won’t get high.”

John let Strange help him up. “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

Strange took the cup from John’s hands then wiped his chin with a clean cloth. John cleared his throat. “Well, I feel like I just took communion or something.”

Strange laughed. “I’m sure you have some very interesting things to confess, John Watson, perhaps later.”

John stopped just before they entered the classroom. “All kidding aside, I appreciate the attempt to get me off my guard, but I don’t think I can go in there.”

Strange put his hands on John’s shoulders. “You can and you will. Trust me, I will be with you every step of the way.”

John had to fight the desire to grab Strange’s hand when they walked through the door. _Get a grip, John Watson, this isn’t your first day of nursery school._ He expected to see a crowded room full of light and strangers, but was surprised to find himself in a dimly lit meditation area where students sat with hands folded and eyes closed.

Strange gave him a warm smile, then gestured him to a dark, quiet corner. John sank down into what he felt was a ‘safe place’, then an old familiar feeling washed over him. It was a combination of relief and sadness. Relief because he felt anonymous and sadness because through his anonymity no one would approach him. He was alone and would be until he breathed his last breath-alone.

John watched while Strange led the class in a series of exercises. At first it seemed routine, like some sort of hip yoga class, then everything changed when each student projected their own unique powers. Different colors, surrounded them, some were in geometric patterns, others took on the shapes of fantastical creatures. Some of them he recognized and others he didn’t. His heart rate increased. _What the hell have I gotten myself into?_ “Shit,” he swore aloud when a neon-green dragon flew above his head. He was about to hobble from the room, when Strange’s eyes locked on to him. John stared back, then sat back down, enjoying the sense of calm that washed over him. _That tea is marvelous. I must get the name of the brew or learn how to make it._ He smiled, wondering when the last time was that he wanted to make something.

Strange kneeled beside him in meditation pose. “John, we’re going to start with something simple. We’re going to go slow.”

John grimaced while he attempted to fold his legs the way Strange’s were. “There’s no way in hell my legs are going to do that.”

“It’s okay, John. I want you to be comfortable. Just lie on your back and close your eyes. Concentrate on the sound of my voice and nothing else.”

John leaned back and closed his eyes, soon forgetting where he was and who he was, or rather who he had become. _Broken. I’m broken._

“John, I’m going to open up your chakra points.” Strange whispered.

John smirked. “Just as long as that’s all you open up.”

Strange smiled down at John’s prone figure, wondering what he would do if he gave him a peck on the cheek. _Strange, focus, now. This man needs your help, not your ridicule._ “John, I’m going to place my hands just above certain points of your body. I won’t touch you unless I have to. I will keep you informed every step of the way.” John nodded, keeping his eyes closed. “I am moving my hands over you now. After I open up each point you will feel a sensation of warmth.”

John’s eyes remained shut, but soon the lids relaxed and his breathing became normal. His lips parted in surprise when the pain in his shoulder began to dissipate. Strange watched when John’s lower lip dropped, making it appear fuller. _I wonder what he would do if I flicked his cheek, then stuck my finger in. Strange, stop, focus._

John let his body become limp. _This is way better than any massage I’ve ever had. It’s like a hot tub and a deep tissue treatment all wrapped up in one. Strange could make a fortune by opening a spa. Strange’s Spa, Doctor Strange’s Spa, Strange Spa…_

“John, your heart rate is increasing, clear your mind.”

_Yes Dad._

John’s body began to feel weightless and he began to doze off. “John, don’t go to sleep. I am going to have to put my hands on your upper thigh.”

John nodded, flinching when Strange’s hands made their way around his pelvis and inseam.

With eyes still closed John said, “Okay, that’s it. That’s not where I hurt, so unless you’re fitting me for a suit it’s time to stop.”

“John, I’m a professional and I have no intention of touching you inappropriately. Trust me, please.”

John sighed, “Fine, but a few inches to the left and you owe me dinner.”

“Mmm, not to worry, your delusions of grandeur aside, I am nowhere near no man’s land.”

“Fine, just get on with it.”

Strange breathed deep, manipulating John’s leg in circles. _Full range of motion is intact. So, this is psychosomatic. I will have to test his resolve, put him through the paces. How do I make John see beyond his pain?_ Strange thought a few moments, then grinned a Grinchy smile. _Doctor Watson can’t resist rescuing someone in danger, so I must manufacture a scenario. A scenario where Doctor Watson is a trauma surgeon once more.  A scenario where he can be brave. But to do that I must take him back to the place where all this began. The battlefield. He will hate me, perhaps not even trust me again, but he will walk, he will run and he will be free._


	7. Winter Flurries

John moved his arm around in several experimental circles, then smiled. Strange smiled back, basking in its warmth. _It’s been winter too long._

“This is great. I feel like I have full range of motion,” John exclaimed.

“Be careful. You must allow your body to heal.”

John stopped moving his arm, then stepped closer to Strange. “Thank you.”

Strange’s cheeks flushed a becoming pink. “It’s your body’s cells that are at work.”

“Well, whatever it is; it’s magic,” John whispered, circling Strange. Strange moved the opposite way, neither man saying a word, each caught up in a dance that neither knew the steps to.

Then Strange stopped, putting an end to the law of inertia. “John, it’s time for your next class. We should go.”

John blinked, surprised that he and Strange were the only ones in the room. “Where did everybody go?”

“They’ve all gone to their next class.”

“But I didn’t see them leave.”

Strange’s voice when he spoke made the hairs on the back of John’s neck stand on end. “That’s because you were otherwise engaged.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” John whispered, resisting the impulse to let his fingers trace Strange’s angular jaw line. “So, are you going to walk me to my next class?”

“Yes.”

“And are you then going to carry my books and walk me to my next class after that?”

“No, you will get your books from Wong, the librarian.”

“Wong, huh? Does she wear glasses and say, ‘ssh’, all the time?”

“Wong, is a he and no he does not wear glasses and say, ‘ssh.’ Though he can dispatch your head from your body without getting the blade caught in the clavicle bone.”

“Wow, no making out in the stacks, then?”

“John, it sounds like we’re sort of flirting. Though I’m flattered by the attention. I’m not gay.”

John winked at Strange. “Neither am I. Although I wouldn’t say no if you asked me to prom.”

Strange pursed his lips. “Perhaps, you should call me Doctor or Master Strange while we are in the teaching facility.”

John licked his lips. “Okay, Master Strange it is, well until tonight anyway.” He then laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re so easy.”

“Easy?”

“Yeah, you know easy to tease.”

Strange sighed, “It still sounds like flirting to me.”

John shrugged, then sobered outside of the door Strange ushered him towards. “I can’t go in there, alone.”

“You can and you will.” Strange then gave him a little push and John found himself alone in a class room full of strangers.

After the initial introductions, John’s nerves settled down and he began to listen to the instructor while he gave a brief overview of the class and the history of Kamar-Taj.

Strange had to clear his mind before his next class. He looked across the courtyard to a rocky crag just above the library. It would be cold, but he would be undisturbed. He trudged through the snow until he reached a plateau. There he sat in meditation pose, alone. Then a cold nose nuzzled his palm and Strange smiled down at the little brown dog that sat before him. Though he walked with a slight limp, he had recovered. They both had. “Remember when I found you?” Strange asked. Wisps of fog swirled from his mouth when he spoke. “You must be cold. Come get in my lap. Your injuries must ache like mine.”

He had found the little dog on the streets when he had first came looking for Kamar-Taj. The little dog had limped in front of him and Strange had knelt in the dirt, then rummaged around in his backpack to find the necessary items to bind the dog’s leg up. He had no way of knowing if the animal had survived until a few days later, when he came hobbling up to the front doors of the sanctuary.

“Do you remember that day old boy?” Strange asked.

The dog barked, wagged its tail, then settled down in his lap.

***

By the end of the day, John was exhausted. _Only two classes and I feel as if I’ve been at it all day._ He then made his way to the library to check out the books that his last instructor had recommended. Though the library smelled musty, it felt charged with an energy that made the skin on the back of his neck prickle. His feeling of unease didn’t ease up when Wong appeared.

“I’m the librarian, Wong. How can I help you?”

Though he wanted to come back with a witty retort, he just handed Wong the list of books he needed.

Wong studied the man before him. His face was pale and his slumped shoulders accentuated the uneven gait of his movements. Though he wanted to order him to sit down, Wong could tell from his bearing that the gesture would only anger the proud man that stood before him.

“You must be the new student, Doctor Watson.”

John nodded. “Yes, and please call me John.”

“Go ahead and sit at one of the tables while I find your books.”

John sighed, then sank into the nearest chair. His head drooped down to his chest and his eyes fluttered shut.

“Here are your books, John.”

John’s body jerked and he scowled at Wong. He was about to snap at him when he remembered Strange’s comment about Wong’s ability to remove his head from his shoulders. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“Sure, if you need anything just ask.”

John looked back at him and smiled. “How long does spirit week last?”

“Another week.”

“Well, maybe after that I can get my own room?”

Wong frowned. “Probably, who are you rooming with now?”

“Stra…Master Strange.”

“Master Strange, really? Hmm, that is interesting. He’s very particular about his private space. I am surprised. You must be special.”

John took the books from Wong, thanked him again then left.

Strange opened the door before John could knock. “God, you look terrible.”

“Thanks, you look lovely too,” John murmured, then stopped when he noticed the little brown dog lying on their bed. “Since, when did we get a dog?”

Strange never approved of animals being indoors and was just about to shoo the animal away when John protested. “No, let him stay.”

Strange reached up and felt his forehead. “You’re running a temperature again. Here let’s get your things off, they’re ringing wet.”

“Yeah, right, you’re just trying to get me out of my clothes,” John slurred.

Strange ignored the comment, then helped him change into something dry. He then tucked him in beside the dog and went to get a clean basin of water.

John looked up at him, while he bathed his forehead in cool water. Strange didn’t say a word he just kept at his task, until John grabbed his wrist. Strange’s hands shook and together they both stopped the drops of water that ran down John’s arms.

“I’m sorry. I must have pushed you too far. Stay in bed and rest tomorrow.” Strange said, wiping a wet strand of hair from John’s face.

John stilled Strange’s shaking hands with his own, thinking that they felt like moths trying to escape when they fluttered against his palms. “It’s okay. We all need to be pushed beyond our limits.”

Strange nodded, wondering just what limits they were facing, then John released his hands, but instead of releveling in their freedom, they shook harder, until he clasped them behind his back.


	8. Cold

It was nearing the end of the week and that meant two things, one that spirit week was ending and the other was that John could now have his own room. Strange should have felt relieved, but he didn’t. He sighed, then made his way down the hall to the room that would be John’s new quarters. When he stepped inside, he shivered. The room was acceptable and clean, but would never do. It was facing the north and therefore colder. _He will freeze in here and it’s so dark. The window is too small. John won’t like that._

John watched the last of the students from spirit week leaving. They hugged each other, made promises to keep in touch, then they were gone in a moment. Each using their sling rings to return home. _Home, where the hell is that? Well, time to pack, Strange will be happy to get his place back. Will he miss me?_ He sighed, then made his way to their room, soon to be Strange’s alone.

John knocked and heard a stressed out Strange call out to come in. When he opened the door, the room was in a state of chaos, crates and books lay everywhere, while Strange packed.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Strange snapped.

“Umm, packing?”

“Well, aren’t you a proper genius?” Then Strange stopped what he was doing and walked over to where John stood. “I’m sorry.”

John smiled, then flushed, consumed in the depths of Strange’s green eyes. “So, umm…why are you packing?”

Strange turned away, then resumed his task. “I’m moving out. I want you to have this room.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is the Master Supreme’s room and is much larger than the room I’m to have, plus you’ll be in the dorms.”

Strange looked up. “I’m not rooming in the dorms. There are some unused rooms on the north side, just on the other side of the dorms.”

John was about to argue further, but snapped his lips shut when he noted the scowl that marred Strange’s perfect angular features. “Right. Well, will you at least let me help you pack?”

Strange nodded. John limped over, then used his cane to slide down beside Strange. The packing continued in silence, until he came across some piano sheet music. “Do you play?”

Strange looked up at him with a grief-stricken expression, then snatched the music out of his hands. “I used to.”

John smacked his forehead with the heel of his palm. “I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry, I just didn’t think.”

“It’s alright,” Strange said, then sat cross legged on the floor, reading the music in his hand. “You know I have perfect pitch. I used to consider it a gift, but now it’s just reminder of what I’ve lost. Sometimes when I first wake up in the morning I think I can still play.”

John laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Strange took John’s hand in his own, drawing strength from its steadiness. “There have been compensations.”

They stayed locked in their respective positions, until John let go. “Well, I will miss you. You can stay if you want. I’ve seen other people rooming together in rooms outside the dorms.”

Strange smirked. “Those are couples. Are you asking me to become a couple with you?”

John flushed. “Touché and you would at least owe me dinner first.”

Strange looked up at him. “It seems that you’re also easy to…tease.”

_God, what is wrong with me? The man oozes sexuality and doesn’t appear to notice. I’ve got to get it together. We’re just staring at one another. Say something, John, you idiot._  John swallowed, hoping his thoughts weren’t somehow transparent. “Yes, it seems that I’m easy to tease as well.”

Later that evening, Strange swore when he attempted to light the fire in the small grate in his room. All the rooms on the other side of the complex were heated with solar panels. The cape of levitation hovered beside him, until he shooed it away. His hands shook and he dropped the box of matches. He watched in frustration when they scattered on the cold, stone floor. “Fuck this,” he swore, then closed his eyes, cast a spell, lighting the fire with magic.

A few moments later and he was warming his stiff fingers while he sat in front of the fire. Brownie whined, then came over and curled up in his lap. Strange petted him and his tail thumped out a canine rhythm. He then shivered. “You should have stayed with John. You would have been more comfortable. Well, it’s no matter. I’m glad of the company.”

Brownie looked up at him with devotion and Strange smiled. “I supposed it’s alright to tell you that even Master Supremes get lonely.” He then wondered how he was going to sleep when he was so cold. Right on cue the cape of levitation hovered over and draped its red folds around his shoulders. He fingered its softness. Its texture reminded him of John’s fine hair. _Stop those thoughts right now, Strange, or you’ll never sleep._

John tossed and turned, listening to the wind howl outside his window. _It must be freezing in Strange’s room. I hope he’s warm enough. Maybe I should bring him an extra blanket._ He then grabbed one from the end of his bed and made his way to Strange’s room.

Strange awoke in a cold sweat, groaning when the remnants from his erotic dream manifested itself in a hard mound between his legs. Though he couldn’t remember its exact contents, it must have been a doozy. _Great, this is all I need._ He then pressed the heel of his palm between his legs. It did nothing to abate his desire. _Thank god, I have my own bathroom. I’ll just throw some cold water on myself or rub one out quickly._ A knock at the door made him freeze. _Who the hell could that be?_ “Just a minute,” he called out.

John stood on the other side of the door, listening for Strange’s voice. When he did hear Strange, his voice was muted by Brownie’s barking. _Did he say come in?_ After not hearing a response, John shrugged and opened the door.

Strange stood with his back to John, naked and shivering with cold water dripping down his body. When he saw John, he covered himself with a towel. “I said just a minute. Can’t I have a night to myself? I moved clear over to the cold side of the complex for privacy. Now what do you want?”

John blinked in surprise, dropping the blanket. He shoved it towards Strange with the end of his cane. “Well, pardon the fuck out of me. I thought you might be cold.”

“John, I am full grown man, a Doctor and a Master Sorcerer, I don’t need you or anyone else to take care of me.” Brownie kept barking, not liking the tone of his raised voice. “Oh, and take this mutt with you.” Then he nudged Brownie out into the hall and slammed the door shut.

John felt as if someone had slapped him in the face. _What an asshole. Fuck him and fuck this place._ “Come on Brownie, let’s get out of here.”

Strange sat on the edge of his bed and rocked with his head in his hands. _God, I’m such an asshole. I really need to apologize. But what am I going to say? Sorry, but you interrupted me while I was trying to rub one off. He’s going to think I’m some sort of pervert._ He then looked at himself in the mirror. _I’ll wait until tomorrow, when we’ve both had a chance to cool off._

John stormed back to his room, mumbling to an anxious Brownie all the way back. “He wants to put me at arm’s length, fine. If there wasn’t a blizzard outside, then I would just leave. But then I want to get well, so I’ll take what the bastard has to offer, then I’ll leave.” He then looked down into Brownie’s solemn brown eyes. “Now don’t you start. Your master is an asshole and from now on I’m going to be his best and most difficult student, then I’ll give him a proper thrashing. “Come on, let’s go to sleep.” He then opened the door, where Brownie jumped up on the bed, taking the best spot for himself.


	9. Shaky Ground

John shivered, waiting for class to begin. His Gi was pressed and he stood at attention, ready to train. He took a deep breath, noting with satisfaction the plume of fog that enveloped him when it contacted the frigid air outside. A sense of heightened expectation hung over the group when Strange appeared. Still nursing his hurt, John scowled. _What an ego maniac. I’m surprised he didn’t float in on the cape of levitation._

Strange glanced over in John’s direction. _Great he’s still angry. I should have apologized last night._ “Okay, before we begin let’s have a challenge round.”

Someone pulled out a phone and played a few snippets of a song.

Strange appeared to be perplexed, then smiled. “Easy, that’s Come on Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners on hmm. Anybody?”

John sighed. “I know Master Strange.”

Strange looked at him. “Class this is our newest student Doctor John Watson. Can you tell me the name of the soundtrack?”

_Bastard, he knows how I hate being put on display._ “Yes, I can.”

Strange continued to stare, unsure of why he wanted to challenge the man who stood at attention before him. “What is the name of the soundtrack, Doctor?”

“Take me home tonight.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it. The class burst into laughter, while he blushed. _The bastard set me up. Oh, it’s on now Strange._

Strange smiled. “Well, that’s something we should discuss later. Thank you Doctor Watson for playing.”

John nodded and smiled at the crowd, still seething inside. Then Strange clapped his hands, becoming all business.

They went through countless punching, and kicking exercises that John had done before, in another lifetime as a young doctor, a young soldier in training. He caught sight of his reflection in a mirror that had been conjured up for practicing and almost gasped. A man old before his time stared back at him. _Jesus what’s happened to me?_ His cane clattered to the floor and he lost his balance. He hit the ground with a thud. The class stopped and all eyes were on him. _Shit, shit, motherfucker, shit._

Strange sprang into action, gesturing for another student to take over the class. Though he wanted to help John up, he didn’t. _He needs to learn to stand on his own, but look at him struggle. My heart breaks for him._

John gripped his cane and wobbled to his feet. Strange stood in front of him, camouflaging his movements from the others. “So, have you come to gloat or are you telling me that the searing pain I feel in my leg is just my imagination?”

Strange masked his expressions, looking down at John as if he had never seen him before. “No, I’ve come to teach you to fight.”

John grunted then stood up straight. “Have you forgotten that I’m or was a soldier?”

“No, but the kind of warfare you might find yourself in will be much different than anything you have encountered before.”

“Okay, how so, Master Strange?” John spat out, enunciating each word so that each syllable had a pop to it.

Strange moved his arms in concentric circles until they found themselves in what looked like a mirrored octagon room.

“What the hell is this?” John whispered.

“It’s call the mirror dimension. It’s a safe place to train and practice spells.” Strange then gestured for him to explore his new surroundings.

John took a few steps forward, sticking out his hand to each mirror, then jerking it back when the shapes reflected in their depths changed. “So, no one can see us?”

“No, it’s as if we’re in our own little world,” Strange whispered.

John peered out at the rest of the class while they trained, mesmerized by the way the mirrors displaced their arms and legs. “It’s like a funhouse mirror at a carnival.”

Strange stood beside him. “Yes, except no scary clowns. Now are you ready to train?”

“Yes, Master Strange,” John intoned.

Strange paused, then put a finger to his lips in a nervous gesture. “Umm, John I wanted to apologize about last night.”

John looked back at him, his expression just as impassive as Strange’s own. “No need. We’re not friends just student and teacher. It was a good reminder. Thank you.”

Strange opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again when he was met with a cold stare. _Fine, this is as it should be, but I can’t help feeling that I’ve lost something valuable, something that I won’t be able to get back, like my hands. I am on shaky ground with John Watson and I don’t know how to get the lines of communication open again._

John mirrored Strange’s instructions to the letter, only faltering when he had to hold a forward lunge. Kneeling Strange put his hands on either side of his knee. “John, I want you to remain in this forward lunge with your hands out from your sides, like airplane wings.”

“I’ll fall.”

“I won’t let you fall, now close your eyes. I’m going to give your knee a burst of energy.”

John nodded, noting how Strange’s hands applied just the right amount of pressure. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth spread through the muscles of his leg. _God, this feels marvelous. I am pain free right now._ Then he smiled.

Strange basked in the warmth of John’s smile, even though it wasn’t for him. _Fly John, spread your wings and fly. Be free._ “Now John, open your eyes.”

John opened his eyes, amazed at how light he felt. Then he looked down. His cane was lying beside him and that’s when he began to wobble back and forth. His balance gone. _Fuck, this is just another Strange magic trick._

“John, don’t look down. Keep your eyes fixed on me.”

“What is this some kind of Jesus walking on the water bullshit? I’m going to fall. What am I supposed to do? Am I to be like Saint Peter and ask you to help my unbelief?” John shouted, his voice strained.

“John, you can do this, fight for it?” Strange commanded, regretting the use of his ‘do it now’ surgeon voice.

John balked. “You want to fight, fine. Let’s just see how much damage a cripple can do, shall we?” And before Strange could stop him, John began to bang on the mirrors with his cane.

“John, stop.” But John gave him no heed, fighting with mirror dimension after mirror dimension, until his arm flagged from exhaustion. “John,” Strange whispered.

John stared at him, then without warning, swiped Strange’s legs out from underneath him. He rolled out of the way, but not before John got in a couple of well-placed strikes. Then he fell to the ground, covering his face with his hands. “Just let me out of here, please.”

Strange grunted, then got to his feet. “John, let me help you.”

“Back off,” John shouted, wiping tears from his eyes. “If this is some kind of military trick of breaking me down to build me up, then you’re wasting your time. I’m broken. I can’t be fixed. Now let me out of here please.”

Strange moved his arms and the mirror dimension fell away. John looked around him, relieved that none of the other students were around.

“John I…”

John shook his head. “Look I’m sorry I lost it in there, but I need to be alone now. Please just leave me alone,” he stuttered.

Strange nodded, allowing John to pass. He watched him until he was out of sight, then sat down in meditation pose, wondering how they were ever going to get back on track again.


	10. John's Sling Ring

John sat on the edge of his bed and rocked back and forth. _How am I supposed to live like this?_ Brownie whined, rubbing against him like a cat. John smiled. “Let’s just play hooky and sleep the rest of the day away, shall we?”

Brownie barked his approval and they both scurried under the covers.

Strange hovered outside of each of John’s classes, frowning when he didn’t show up at any of them. _Maybe I should go check on him? No, he wouldn’t like that. I’ll send a student over with a dinner tray and some tea, the kind he likes._

John groaned, when the tapping on his door wouldn’t stop. _I’ve just gotten to sleep and now there’re at me again. This is worse than being in the military hospital._ “Just a minute,” he snapped, surprised when he noticed that it was dark outside. _I must have been asleep much longer than I thought._  

When he opened the door, a student stood before him. “I brought you some dinner and tea.”

John looked around, disappointed that Strange hadn’t come himself. _Coward._ Then he picked up the tray, thanked the student and went inside, shutting the door behind him.

Strange hid around the corner, wanting to catch a glimpse of his wayward student, but not having the courage to face those piercing blue eyes again. _So, angry. So, sad. So, beautiful._ With slumped shoulders and a heavy heart, he went back to his room—defeated.

John set the tray on the bed, while Brownie wiggled around in excitement. He grinned. “Oh, look here water chestnuts, your favorite.” Then he threw the little dog his snack, delighting when he caught it in mid-air. “Good dog.” Brownie lapped up the attention, begging for more. _Why can’t we be like animals? They express their wants and needs without duplicity. But then maybe we don’t always know what we want._ This thought saddened him and he picked at the rest of his food, wondering why his appetite had eroded into a type of emptiness that churned at his insides. _I’ve got to eat something, or I’ll get sick._ He then picked at the rice, drank the tea and set the tray of uneaten food on a high shelf. Brownie whimpered.

“Now, don’t you start. I fed you before our little nap and you’ve eaten half of what was on my dinner plate. I don’t want you getting ill and throwing up.” Then he smiled, patting the blanket, where Brownie crawled over and lay down by his side.

Strange shivered under his blankets, regretting that he had kicked Brownie out. Maybe he should go read. He could use his sling ring, buzz into John’s room, then back out again. Somewhat unethical, but if he were quick John would never even know he had been there. This plan of action gave him renewed energy and Strange put on his full dress uniform beckoning to the cape of levitation. Then he hunkered down, made a portal and in a flash of swirling light he was in John’s room.

Brownie yipped, and Strange put a finger to his lips, giving the little dog a garlic tofu treat. His eyes narrowed at the amount of food left on the tray and he sighed. Then he looked down at John. He slept on his stomach. The covers had been tossed to the floor. Chill bumps stood out on his arms and legs. Strange let his gaze linger over John’s body, noting the thin T-Shirt and boxers that covered a perfect round ass. _Jesus, what am I doing? I’m staring at another man’s ass. I must be more tired than I thought._ Then Strange picked up the blankets, covering John with care. He froze, when he murmured something, staying rooted to the spot until he felt it was safe to move, then in a swirl of light he was gone.

John opened his eyes and yawned. _It smells like sex and Christmas._ Then he sat up. “Strange?” There was no answer. The only sound in the room was Brownie licking his lips. He lay back down, burrowing his nose in the folds of the blankets. _Like sex and Christmas._ Then he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Over the next few weeks, John’s strength grew and there were times when he didn’t have to use his cane. He should feel elated, but he didn’t. Though he had his eyes closed, sitting in meditation pose in the garden, he knew from the crackle of energy along his arms that Strange was near. He opened his eyes, squinting up at his tall imposing figure.

Strange moved to the left so that John wouldn’t need to shield his eyes. “Hi, how are you doing?”

John looked up into Strange’s mesmerizing green eyes, feeling like a prey animal. He shifted a little. “Fine, Master Strange and you?”

Strange winced at the formal tone. “I’ve come to fit you for a sling ring.”

John sat up straight, unable to keep the enthusiasm from his voice. “Really? That’s great.”

Strange smiled. “You are doing very well…John. Now hold out your hand and relax.”

Strange took out a sling ring from the folds of his jacket and slipped it over John’s fingers. “You need to relax or I won’t be able to get a correct sizing. It must fit loose enough to easily come off, but not so loose that it falls off. Your hands are so dry.”

John held out his hand for the ring, then licked his index finger to lubricate the inside of it. Strange watched in fascination when the tip of John’s tongue shot out a few times to re-wet his finger. “There, that should do.”

Strange swallowed, then cleared his throat. “Yes, that will do.” He then slid the ring on and off John’s fingers in piston like movements until the fit was right. His bottom lip trembled, while he concentrated on his task.

John looked up at him, masking a smile when the tip of Strange’s tongue shot out his mouth. “There the sizing is complete. I will take the sizing ring to the shop and your ring should be ready tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Master Strange.”

Strange and John stared at one another, then Strange cleared his throat. “See you in class.”

John nodded, watching Strange’s retreating figure with a puzzled frown on his face.

When John opened his door the next day, there was a little box just outside. He bent down, picked up the box and snapped the lid up. Inside lay his ring—his sling ring. _Cool, I can’t wait to get to class and try this thing out._

Strange smiled when John came to class with a smile on his face. Another student told him to put his ring in the pile with the other rings. John frowned. “How will I know which one is mine?”

“It will heat up under your touch,” Strange answered.

John flushed, then got in line with the rest of the students. After a complete workout, Strange told them to get their rings. John felt bewildered when the other students picked of their individual rings without pausing. He stopped, looking at the tangle of rings in front of him. “Put your hand over the rings and feel the heat,” Strange whispered in his ear.

John closed his eyes, then did as Strange suggested. He opened his eyes in surprise when his palms grew warm, then he picked up his ring and slipped it on.”

“A perfect fit,” Strange commented, looking down at John’s hand.

John swallowed. “Yes, it appears so.”

The rest of the class went by in a blur and John felt disappointed that he wasn’t able to transport anywhere on the first try. He avoided Strange, seeking refuge in the library. Wong approached him. “What can I get for you Watson?”

John shrugged. “I just needed a place to cool down.”

Wong put a hand to his forehead. “Well, you’re not running a fever, but you do feel a little warm.”

“Yeah, that ring heated up my whole body. I feel like I’m on fire. Is it supposed to do that?”

Wong looked confused. “The ring only grows warm when it seeks its master. If you’re feeling warm it’s from something else.”

John sat down, rubbing the back of his neck. _What could it be?_


	11. Sandstorm

John swallowed, attempting to keep from coughing. When his throat became dry coughing would ensue and his throat always got dry when he was nervous. Today he would be tested to see if he could come back from wherever Strange stranded him. _He’ll probably send me to Iceland. Maybe I shouldn’t have been such a smart ass._

Master Strange clapped his hands and class began. John attempted to keep his mind on the techniques, but he kept getting distracted by his own thoughts of being dumped in the middle of god knew where—the frozen tundra, a volcano, the middle of the ocean. Though he went through the defensive movements with his partner, his mind wandered until he felt a sharp slap on the side of his face. Outraged he whirled around. “What the fuck?”

“Keep your head in the game, Watson,” Strange bellowed, “and no swearing during training.”

John nodded, then mumbled, “Yes, Master Strange.” _You piece of shit mother-fucker._

Strange came to his side, whispering in his ear. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Forgetting protocol, John’s mouth flew open. “You can read minds?”

Strange let him squirm, then smiled. “No, but what would I find in the darkest reaches of your mind, John Watson?”

John flinched when Strange reached out and lightly touched his forehead. “I would never hurt you, John.”  Then he clapped his hands again. “Class, we are now going to practice getting out of a hold when some opponent grabs from behind. John, come up in front of the class with me.”

John could feel his heart rate spike. _Rat bastard, he knows I hate being watched._ He then took a deep breath and with a slight limp came forward, standing in front of Strange.

Strange smiled. “I’m going to grab John and it is a surprise attack.”

John licked his lips, waiting for Strange to grab him. _What’s taking so long? Is he checking out my ass or what?_ When he finally attacked, it took John’ breath away. _Well, nice to know he’s not holding back._ Before he could recover his balance, Strange strengthened his hold, until there wasn’t a sliver of daylight between them. He then pushed his whiskered cheek against John’s, whispering in his ear. “Come on, dammit, you have three seconds before I choke you out.”

John willed himself to relax, fighting the panic that rose in his chest. In vain he attempted to sweep Strange’s feet out from underneath him. Slipping on a patch of gravel, he went down. Strange was on him in an instant, not letting up. When he felt Strange’s hand rub along his throat, he knew he was going for a choke hold. _Don’t fight it, relax._ He then let his body go limp. Strange’s body sank deeper into his own, groin to groin, molding into his own.

Strange’s eyes widened and he gasped, relaxing his hold. John shifted his hips, then kneed Strange in the gonads. He smiled in triumph, until he observed Strange in the fetal position, pale and gasping for air. _Shit._ Then the Doctor in him took over. “Strange, oh god I’m sorry. Why weren’t you wearing a cup?”

Tears streamed from Strange’s eyes and he shook his head. Another teacher rushed forward, and began to teach the class, while John looked down. He knew that he should return to class as well but he insisted on staying by Strange’s side. “I’m a Doctor. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Strange lay there clenching his teeth, then when he was able, got to all fours and stood up. John steadied him. “I’m really sorry, Strange.”

Strange’s eyes had an odd look in them. “It was my own fault. I said I wouldn’t hurt you. I never said you wouldn’t hurt me. Go back to class, John. I will be there in a moment.”

Strange stood off to the side, seething, not because John had gotten the better of him. It was how he did it. The way he moved his hips, trapping their groins together in an arousing mesh of flesh. It was confusing and frightening. Though he knew that he shouldn’t test John while he harbored such anger, he walked to the front of the class with an aura of calm.

“Well, let this be a lesson to all of you. Even a Master Supreme needs to wear a cup when training.” The rest of the class laughed, then he beckoned to John. “John Watson, please come here. Are you ready for your test?”

John looked into Strange’s eyes. _God, I am so screwed. He’s still pissed._ Then Strange moved his arms and they both disappeared into a vortex of light, that deposited them into the desert.

John glanced around him. “You’re stranding me in the desert?”

Strange smiled. “Have fun, Doctor, but that’s your game, isn’t it? You should be used to the desert.” Then he left John alone, fighting off the needles of guilt that pricked at his conscience.

_The desert. He left me in the desert and not just any desert. I’m in Afghanistan. I know it._ John rose his hands up in a circle, knowing that the small bit of light that emerged wasn’t enough to get him home.

Strange dismissed the class and waited for John’s return. He paced a few moments, then went to the library. Wong looked up when he entered. “So, how did Watson do?”

“He’s still out there.” Strange then began to look through stacks of books.

“How long has he been out there?”

Strange looked over at Wong. “Not long enough to be concerned, yet.”

John sat down in the sand, willing himself to relax. He moved his hands, then sighed when a few sparks popped back at him. _Shit, I’m going to die out here._ A small beetle crawled along the dunes and he watched its progress with interest. Then it stopped, losing its balance and John looked up. _Oh Christ, it’s a sand storm. I’m fucked._ Taking his shirt off, he wrapped it around his head, covering his ears, nose and mouth.

Strange no longer made a pretense of being worried. He was.

“So, are you going in to get him?” Wong asked.

“I can’t, it will undermine his training. If I go in, he must bring us both back or he will fail.” Strange glanced at the book in his hands, then handed it to Wong.

“What if he’s dead?”

Strange glanced at Wong in irritation. “Thanks for the encouragement.”

Wong shrugged. “I’m just saying, students have died before during the sling ring test.”

“Well, John Watson isn’t, not on my watch.” Then Strange made his portal and was gone.

John sat hunched over, knowing that if the storm worsened he wouldn’t be able to breathe.

“John? John?” He turned around to see Strange standing beside him fighting against the wind. “You’ll have to bring us both back.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” then Strange threw his sling ring into the howling wind.

“What did you do that for, dumb ass?”

Strange opened his mouth to reply, just as a gust of sand blew in. He sputtered, then looked down at his belt for the dagger within its folds to cut a strip of his uniform off to cover his face. He pulled the material taut, then gasped when his hands shook causing the blade to slice into trembling fingers.

John looked over to see blood pouring down Strange’s arm. _Jesus, what’s he done now?_ He ran over gathered Strange in his arms and faced down the storm in defiance.  


	12. No Comment

John rushed forward, catching Strange in his arms just before he hit the sand. “It’s going to be alright,” he yelled, while he worked to stem the blood that pumped from an artery in Strange’s arm. “You would have to puncture an artery, wouldn’t you?”

Strange smiled. “Sorry, I’m an asshole as well as a pain in the ass.” Then he closed his eyes.

“No, no, no, stay with me Stephen,” John commanded while he finished tying up the tourniquet that kept Strange from bleeding out. _God, he looks so pale, shit._

Strange shivered then smiled again. “Take us home, John.”

John stared down into Strange’s shinning green eyes, knowing he would die soon. Frustration, anger and a surge of fierce protectiveness surged through his veins. _I will protect him. I will save him. I will bring us both home. I am a soldier, a doctor, a sorcerer and no dimension will keep me from this task. Strange is mine and I will destroy the whole fucking universe if I must, just to keep him safe._ Then he felt a surge of heat, that originated between his eyes. It had a life of its own, burning its way down each chakra point of his body, his face, neck, nipples, abdomen, groin, upper thighs all the way down to the tips of his toes. He then took out his sling ring, moving his hands until a circle of light sparked, growing larger while he moved his hands. The opening was larger than any he had seen the other students, or even Strange duplicate, but he ignored its abnormalities, hauled Strange to his feet, shoving them both through the portal.

Wong and a group of sorcerers stood in the courtyard, discussing how they would retrieve Strange and his wayward student, John, when a howling sound filled the air, a portal opened and mounds of sand poured in like ocean waves. John and Strange slid down one of the crests. John was the first to recover. “Strange is injured,” he whispered, then fell to his knees, his body convulsing with the electrical pulses that raced through it. He opened his mouth to say something, when another seizure overtook him. His eyes rolled up to the top of his head, then everything went black.

When John opened his eyes, he could smell the arid scent of an acupuncture fire treatment. _I wonder who the poor bastard is that’s getting the treatment? Ouch, Jesus, it’s me._ “What’s happening?”

Strange stood before him, putting a finger to his lips. “John, don’t speak yet. You are feeling the side effects of a portal transfer gone wrong.”

“Great, another little thing you didn’t tell me?”

“John, ssh, please. You’ve should have slept through the fire treatment.”

John ignored his orders. “Why? Oh fuck, mother of god, you’re setting me on fire.”

“John, I’m not going to tell you again. Be quiet.”

John closed his eyes, letting the fire burn through the needles to their destined pressure points. At first it hurt, then it felt good, like a Swedish massage. His body relaxed and he leaned into Strange’s touch against his forehead. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk later.”

John opened his mouth to reply, then remained silent when Strange’s hands began to caress the tight muscles around the back of his neck. _Feels so good._

“John? John? You’ve been asleep for 36 hours; it’s time to wake up now. I know you can hear me. I can tell. Now open your eyes. Come on John, I know you can do this.”

John did as commanded, then looked around him. The room was darkened. There were no shelves or pictures on the wall. The room was bare. Strange stood to the side of the table he lay on, peering into his face. “I know you have a lot of questions, but let me speak first. You had a reaction to the power you summoned up, it went through your whole system, burning through your chakra points and almost setting the whole place on fire. We are in the sensory deprivation dimension. You are safe.”

John cleared his throat. “What happened and why are you wearing nothing but boxers?”

Strange smiled. “You burned through two of my best uniforms, but it seems your protective nature drew the line at setting my flesh on fire.”

John took the cup of tea Strange offered him, gulping it down. “What’s wrong with me?”

Strange took the cup from his trembling hands and said, “Absolutely, nothing, you’re perfect.”

John swallowed. _What the hell?_

Strange blushed. “What I meant is that you’re a protector and a healer. It is a rare combination in a sorcerer. I blame myself. I should have recognized the signs, but well there hasn’t been a protector/healer in years. John, you have the ability to heal and fight at the same time. You are special, very special. You hovered over me like an avenging angel. You wouldn’t let anyone touch me. It took five sorcerers to subdue you.”

John looked away from Strange’s penetrating gaze. “So, who stitched up your arm?”

Strange held up his arm for inspection. “You did.”

“What? Let me see,” John ordered.

Strange came forward, holding out his arm while John ran his fingers over it. “It looks like the wound has been sewn together with a laser.”

“You do good work. Thank you.”

John held his arm, then let go when he realized how long he had been holding it. “Well, I have no idea what I did, but you’re welcome.” Then he leaned back, angry when tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“It’s alright, John. We will get through this together. You will be trained how to harness your powers and everything will be alright.”

John wiped a tear away. “I’m not nine. I know problems can’t be wished away.”

Strange took his hand. “No, but I will be by your side the entire time. I won’t leave you.”

Though the touch made his skin ache, he clung to Strange’s fingers. “You may have no choice, but I appreciate the sentiment. Sometimes…sometimes surgeons and sorcerers fail.”

A sad smile, twitched around Strange’s lips when he replied. “Yes, but I have time on my side. Now, back to business. Does your skin still itch?”

John nodded. “Like a son of a bitch.”

“I will rub some ointment on it.” Then he pulled back the covers and began to apply the salve.

“Does that have to go everywhere?”

“Everywhere external.  Why am I hurting you?”

“No, it’s just...”

“You’re worried you might get a boner? Don’t worry you won’t.”

John laughed. “Like you’d know what to do. Have you ever sucked a guy off?”

“No, absolutely not. Have you?”

John closed his eyes, then smirked. “No comment.”

Hours later, after John had fallen asleep the words ‘no comment’, replayed over and over in his mind.


	13. Ravaged Heart

John hated everything about his new status, from the way he was sheltered away from the others to the fact that a sorcerer flanked his side at all times. Most of the time it was Strange, sometimes it was Wong. _I’m a prisoner. I can’t live like this._

Strange looked over at John, afraid that he had overtaxed him during their last meditation session. “John, I think you should take the rest of the day off. Have a drink or two with Wong.”

John laughed. “Doctor Strange are you ordering me to drink?”

Strange smiled back. “Yes, but in moderation.”

“Why Wong and not you?”

Strange looked down at his shaking hands. “I don’t drink and besides Wong can subdue you better than I.”

John stood up and stretched. “Why do you think that is?”

Strange avoided eye contact, then said, “I don’t know; it’s his way.”

John rolled his eyes watching Strange while he got to his feet, his uniform jacket was off, revealing his bare arms. They were magnificent. The way the muscles rippled fascinated him. _What would it be like to touch them?_ He then cleared his throat. “Yes, I think I’ll take your suggestion and have a drink or two with Wong.”

Drinking with Wong wasn’t as much fun as he thought it would be. Though they went to a sorcerer’s bar, a place where John could be subdued if necessary, it still was a controlled environment. After a few rounds of alcohol Wong began to do Beyoncé imitations.  John left him to his drinking and went back to the sanctum alone. By the time, he staggered to the public baths, he was ready to pass out. Stripping off his clothes, he sank into the hot water, sighing in relief when it bubbled around his torso. _Fuck, that feels good._ He enjoyed the solitude, then he heard Strange’s voice, and there he stood naked, dancing and singing oblivious to his presence, due to the ear phones that were jammed in his ears. _Shit._

Strange stopped, then opened his mouth, taking one of the earphones out of his ear. “John, sorry I thought I was alone.”

John grimaced. “Apparently.”

“Why are you back so early and where is Wong?”

“Still doing his Beyoncé imitations.”

“He left you alone?”

“No, I snuck away. I was bored and there’s nothing worse than being bored and drunk.” _Not unless there is a way to ease up the tension, like fucking someone’s brains out._ He then looked up at Strange, at his chest, where the nipples began to pebble after being out of the water, his six pack abs and finally between his legs. _Of course, he’s perfect there too, not too big, not too small, nice and straight. Fuck._ “For god’s sake put a towel on or something.”

Strange smirked, then grabbed a towel from a near-by bench. “Why do you like what you see?”

Rage, lust, and loneliness sent his emotions into turmoil. With one swift move, he was out of the water and backing Strange against the wall. “Stop with the ‘I’m as hot as fuck,’ innuendos.  I’m sick of you, of this place and I’m sick of your teasing. Oh, and yes, I have sucked off and fucked a guy or two. Do you know what it’s like to be on the battlefield, the stress and the loneliness? No, I can see that you don’t. You’re a posh boy, who grew up in a rich family, went to fancy private schools, born with a superior intellect and money to boot, while the rest of us normal folk had to work for everything we got in life.” Then he took a step closer to Strange, poking him in the chest. “Nothing has ever been easy for me. My mum left when I was ten. My dad did the best he could, but then he drank himself to death. He died when I was fourteen. My sister and I were in care for 4 years. It sucked, but I worked hard and I never let anyone give me a ration of shit. I got scholarships went to medical school, then to war to pay off my excess debt and you, you threw everything away with both hands in a careless accident.”

Strange kept his hands clenched by his sides. “John, you’re drunk. Go sleep it off.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Then he lunged at Strange, struggling with him until they both hit the ground. They both grunted, each fighting for the dominant position—the top. Strange finally relented, while John growled, pinning him down. The feel of Strange’s body beneath him, sent his libido into hyper drive with a desire so intense that it made his head swim. _I want to plough him until he begs for mercy, until his body and soul are mine._ “I’m not a nice guy, Strange. I get angry and I want my own way; it’s hard for me to express my thoughts. I’m not eloquent like you.” Then he grabbed a handful of Strange’s hair, pulling his head back. He looked down into Strange’s large eyes, filled with confusion and something else. Revulsion? Some of his anger dissipated and he staggered to his feet. “Jesus, you look scared to death. Did you think I was going to rape you? Fuck this shit, I’m going to bed.” Then he stalked off without another word.

Once inside his room, he began to pack. He looked down at Brownie, who whined at his feet. “I’m sorry I can’t take you with me, but I promise I will look into getting you shipped over to me once I get back to London.”

***

Wong looked over at John, while they waited for a cab to pick him up. “I can’t help feel that you’re making a mistake.”

John sighed. “Wong, I’ve had time to sleep it off and I’ve been thinking about this decision for a while now. Last night just clarified things for me. I don’t belong here.”

Wong’s obsidian eyes looked back at him. “What happened last night?”

_Jesus, does he ever blink?_ “Nothing, like I said I don’t belong here with all of you and…him.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

He glared at Wong. “Don’t start.” When the cab pulled up, he gave Wong a half hug, and handed him a note. “Please make sure Strange gets this.”

Wong watched the cab pull away. _This is not good, not good at all._

Strange awoke to find Brownie at his door with a note beside him. He patted Brownie’s head, then picked up the paper with John’s familiar scrawl on it.

_Strange, I’m sorry about last night. I guess drinking wasn’t a good idea after all. I’ve decided to take a job in London. I can’t thank you enough for all you and the others have taught me, but this sorcery stuff isn’t for me. I’m just a Doctor and a soldier. Again, I am sorry for any trouble I have given you and if you’re ever in London feel free to look me up._

_John-_

Strange read then re-read the note, feeling like the day he had stared at his shattered hands after the accident. He never thought he would have to bear that kind of loss again. He was wrong, except this time it was his heart that lay in tatters. Silent tears coursed down his cheeks, then he curled up in a ball, punching his pillow over and over until his hands ached. A knock at the door, stopped his pummeling. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Wong.”

Strange opened the door, while Wong studied his grief ravaged features. “What happened last night?” Wong whispered.

Strange breathed deep, remembering John’s body pinned against his own, his lips hovering a few inches above his. “Nothing,” he replied in a flat tone.


	14. Tempered Glass

**4 Months Later**

John looked at his reflection in the mirror, while he finished getting ready for work. Though the green scrubs set off his blue eyes, making them sparkle, they also accented the bags that lay in round puffs beneath them. _I look old, tired, sad._ He’d lost weight, a lot of weight. ‘You’re as thin as a rake,’ one of his colleagues had said the other day. _I look like Jack Fucking Skellington, the Pumpkin King._ He smiled, recalling a song or two, but the titles eluded him. _Strange would know. He would know the dates and probably the times each song was recorded and published. Strange…_ His smile faded, replaced with a grimace. _I look like my father just before he had his heart attack. Fuck, I’m a mess, can’t wait to get to work, to heal the broken and ease the pain of the dying. I’m John Hamish Watson, trauma surgeon and soldier. Maybe I should re-up, back to the desert—death. Christ, I’ve got to get going._

He then ran out the door and to his motorcycle. His heart beat faster, when he powered it up and dodged through traffic, daring someone to cross his path, daring them to take his life in a crunch of metal and glass. Just before he reached his destination, someone cut him off. “Hey, cocksucker, watch where you’re going.”

The man flipped him off. “Fuck you, mate.”

“No, fuck you. I only hope you end up in my emergency room, so that I can sew your dick inside your mouth, asshole.”

The man drove off and he had the quell the desire to drive after him, to force him off the road, beating him to a jelly.

“Nice.”

John turned to see Launa, one of his colleagues standing at the entranceway. He grinned. They had a one night stand, where they’d fucked like rabbits, where he’d satisfied his lust but not his soul, making her scream, going down on her, letting his mouth and tongue ravage its way through her soft folds until she came undone. Finding her spot over and over, thinking that if he penetrated her, peaking her sexual satisfaction until her body arched into a frenzy beneath him that it would be enough. It wasn’t. He’d been honest, telling her that all he wanted was a quick release, but it didn’t stop either of them from wanting more. But when they showered, dressed and the first rays of the sun peaked through the window, they both knew that it was what it was, nothing substantial.  

She’d asked if he wanted her to stay, but he shook his head, then with a kiss on the forehead, and a parting comment about how his cock should be registered as a national treasure, she was gone.

“Hey, where are you?” she asked.

John blinked, looking around him. “I was just remembering our night together.”

“You want a repeat?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Come one, let’s get in there before someone reports you as the foul mouth Doctor out front.”

He smiled, hoping for an adrenaline filled day.

***

Strange went about his day, reveling in its precise schedule, no deviations, no surprises, just training, teaching, studying, sleeping and eating as little as possible.

“You don’t look good,” Wong stated with his usual bluntness.

Strange grinned, acknowledging him with a grunt. “I’m busy.”

Wong shook his head. “Busy or not, you look like a creepy wizard. Why don’t you email him?”

Strange continued to look at the book he held in his hands. “Email who?”

“You know who, John.”

“John made it perfectly clear that he never wanted to see me or this place again.”

“Maybe, you should tell him that you accept his apology. You do, don’t you?”

Strange looked up. “Of course.”

Wong pulled a small tablet underneath his desk. “Then do it.”

Strange sighed, “No.”

“Come on.”

Strange sighed again. “If I do it, will you be quiet and leave me alone?”

Wong folded his arms across his chest. “About this matter, yes.”

“Fine, give me the damn tablet.”

Wong handed it to him, then Strange accessed the internet, and typed in John’s last known e mail address. He then stared at the screen in front of him. _Subject line, what should I put in the subject line? I forgive you for being an asshole, have a nice life? Hmm._ Then he typed: **John, I accept your apology and hope you are well.** _No that sounds too trite. After all, it’s been 4 months, 2 days and 38 minutes._ He stared at the screen, until Wong came around behind him.

“Sounds good, Strange, send it.”

“It’s too blunt. It will just piss him off.”

Wong rolled his eyes. “Just send it.” Then before Strange could stop him he pressed send.

***

John rubbed the back of his neck. _I can’t handle these 18 hour shifts like I used to._ He stripped off his scrubs, then checked his phone messages. His heart beat faster when he noticed an email from Strange. He read it, then re-read it. _Of all the fucking things, what an arrogant, asshole._ He then typed back, his hands shaking from exhaustion, anger, and frustration. **Wow, big of you. I’ll skip confession, your holiness, thanks for the papal blessing, fuck you too.** Then he pressed send hard enough to be glad that he had a tempered glass screen protector.

***

Strange read the message, bowing his head, then deleted John from his contact list. He was about to go back to reading, when a crackling sound filled the air—magic. Wong ran to its source, stepping back when a vortex filled the space in front of the eye of argamotto. Mordo appeared his hands raised above his head, making signs until a dimension screen stood in front of him. “Good evening, Strange, Wong.”

Strange ran to the eye of argamotto, making shields of protection. He then reached for the eye. His cape attempted to pull him away but he fought it off.

“Strange, don’t touch it,” Wong screamed.

Strange ignored him and grabbed the eye. His body jerked, then fell to the ground. Mordo then laughed and disappeared through his vortex. Wong knelt beside Strange, the eye of argamotto glowed red, and Strange lay still, eyes open staring, red like the eye of argamotto that stared unblinking back at him.


	15. In the Chaos

John washed up, after a long and arduous surgery. The patient had died. Now it was time to tell the family. _I’m sorry for your loss, but your son fucked up, got drunk and pedaled his bicycle in front of a bus. I tried but couldn’t put all the pieces back together again. Fuck, this part of the job sucked._

He made his way to where the family waited, their eyes hopeful and wary at the same time. Then the mother looked at him and he looked at her. She knew, even before he spoke she knew. Her wail of grief made the hairs on his arms stand on end. Her husband moved to catch her.

 He looked at John, wanting the empirical evidence his heart couldn’t accept.  “I’m sorry, your son didn’t survive, his injuries were too severe.”

“Did he regain consciousness and say anything?”

The mother’s sobs made John want to scream as well. “No, I’m sorry.” Then he left, knowing that he would hear her sobs in his dreams. _I need a drink. When is my bloody shift over?_ He stopped just outside his office and looked at the figure that hovered at the door. “Wong, is that you? How are you? What are you doing here?” Then he looked at Wong and Wong looked at him. “Oh Christ, it’s Strange, isn’t it?”

Wong nodded. “Yes.”

John ran to the nurses’ station to where his nurse sat at her desk. “Find someone to cover for me. I have a family emergency.” Then he followed Wong into the swirling vortex he had created just inside his office.

With his blood, stained scrubs still clinging to his body, John ran down the hall after Wong. Just outside of Strange’s room Wong paused. “John, Strange has changed. Though he will tell you he’s fine, he’s not. He is dying.”

John leaned against the wall. “What? How do you know? Are you a Doctor?”

“No, but I have seen this sickness before and it did not end well. The sorcerer died.”

“Well, fuck that and fuck you. I don’t give up that easily.”

Wong patted his shoulder. “That’s what we’re counting on.”

He pushed past him, to where Strange lay curled up on his bed. Brownie whined when he caught sight of him, then lay back down at Strange’s feet with his tail thumping. “Strange,” he whispered, kneeling by the side of the bed.

Strange opened his eyes and John gasped, they were as red as the eye of agamotto. “John?”

John took his cold, white hand, brushing Strange’s hair away from his forehead. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here.” Then he ran his thumb along Strange’s lower lip. Strange leaned into the pressure, closing his eyes when their foreheads touched.

 After a few moments Strange looked up at him, frowning when he noticed the soiled scrubs. “John, is that your blood? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I had just gotten out of surgery when Wong looked me up.”

Strange smiled. “You’re staring.”

“It’s your eyes.”

“They’re kind of sexy, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are. Feral red turns me on.”

Strange put one hand behind his head. “Let’s face it, you’ve been trying to get me into bed since the first day we met.”

John laughed, then climbed in beside him. “If I were to get you into bed, I’d fuck you until you bled from your ears.”

Strange’s uncontrolled laughter shook the whole bed. “Oh John, I’ve missed you.”

He rubbed his smooth cheek against Strange’s whiskered one. “Me too, I’m sorry for everything.”

Strange fingered his clothing. “Did your patient survive?”

“No.”

“There’s a clean robe in my closet. Put it on, then come back to bed. I’m tired and cold.”

John slipped off his things, noting when Strange leaned back, watching his every move. His eyes took in every detail, his stocky build, short legs, and the bulge that rested in the center of his boxers. He twirled around. “Like what you see?”

Strange chuckled. “Come on Kong, get into bed.”

John smiled, put on the robe, then slipped in beside Strange and took him in his arms. “We’ll, fix this.”

Strange shivered. “Sure, but let’s rest now. I’m so tired. And John?”

“Yes?”

“I had no idea you were carrying a concealed weapon in your briefs.”

“Wait until I brandish it at you, then in you.”

Strange smiled. “I look forward to it, Mister Big Stuff.”

The smile froze on John’s face. “Are you referring to the song sung by Jean Knight?” _I finally got him. He’s not answering._ “Strange?” _Great, he’s asleep._ “Goodnight Strange,” he whispered, taking a whiff of his hair. _Umm, like sex and Christmas._

***

John awoke feeling hot. Though the sun had not come up yet, he was sweating. _Jesus, why am I so warm? Because I’m wrapped up tight with, Strange._ He then began to untangle himself from Strange’s legs, swearing when his morning wood brushed up against Strange’s backside. _God, what an ass. I want to plough it. I want to…Jesus, John get a grip. I bet he has a strong grip. JOHN, focus with the head above your waist. Strange needs you, the sanctum needs you._ He then crept out of bed, hoping that Strange would remain asleep.

“John?”

“Ssh, go back to sleep.”

“Wow.”

He looked down to where Strange fixed his red eyed stare.  “Stop, it’s not what you think. I have to pee. Now go back to sleep. I’m going to get something to eat, then I’m going to the library to find out how we can fix this.”

“I thought you liked the sexy red eyes.”

“I thought we’d settled that last night.”

“Did we?”

“Strange, you have a virus running through your system that’s going to kill you if we don’t find a way to get it out.” Then he walked over, and reached out to touch the eye of agamotto.

Strange grabbed his arm. “Don’t if you touch it, it could infect you as well.”

“Strange, what aren’t you telling me?” Strange looked away. “God dammit, look at me.”

“You can’t read Sanskrit and even if you could I’m not willing to risk it. I’m not willing to risk your safety.”

John clinched his fists to his sides, then moved his hands until the entire room lay covered in neon colored shields. “I am a sorcerer and a healer and nothing will keep me from protecting you. You are mine.” His voice became low, while he screeched out a warning to the eye of agamotto that hung around Strange’s neck. The walls began to crack, but he took no heed. Strange was in danger. Then the cape of levitation swirled in front of him, while Brownie barked at his feet. It was the little dog’s loving eyes that made him rein in his control. He brought his hands down to his sides.

The room remained silent a moment, then Strange got out of the bed and approached him. “You didn’t have to be so dramatic. I got it, your powers have developed. Give me your hands.”

He held out his shaking, singed hands. Strange looked at him, reached into a drawer for some salve, and began to rub it on the red areas of his palms. Then Strange pulled him in close, so that their hips were touching. “Strange, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you.”

A knock at the door made them both jump.

“What is it?” Strange growled.

Wong burst into the room. “We have a pinpoint on Mordo.”

Strange and John moved apart, while the room irrupted in chaos. Brownie barked, Wong spouted out information, the cape of levitation draped itself over Strange’s shoulders, and they smiled. Without Strange lifting a finger, time slowed down while they watched each other.


	16. Citrine Dimension

Strange looked at Wong. “Could you repeat that one more time?”

“Mordo is in the citrine dimension.”

“What’s the citrine dimension?” John asked.

Strange then glanced over at John, working to control his own heart rate. _Damn, I’m starting to lose it._ “The citrine dimension is a color frequency dimension. It is a disorientating place, full of deception. Everything is citrine colored. A person’s voice can become lost forever by disturbing its fragile facets. Oh, god, John, I can’t take you there.”

John stepped in front of him. “You can’t stop me. Wong and I are coming with you.”

“No, someone needs to stay here. Wong, you will come with me and John will stay.”

John laid a hand on his arm. “Strange, you’re not making sense. Wong is more equipped to guard the sanctum and I am more equipped to guard you.”

“I don’t need guarding and besides you have no idea what the citrine dimension could do to you, John. You could be fused into a crystalline structure forever, or your essence could be transformed into a frequency that no one could hear—just a blip on some observatory satellite.”

Strange shivered when John took his arm. “Then we shall be frozen in amber together, like fossils.”

He fixed his red eyes on John, wanting to unburden himself. His heart, loins, and head ached—ached for him. An intense wave of longing swept over him, making him sway. “I can’t fight you both. Let’s go. Wong take care and if the worse should happen, you know what to do.”

Wong nodded. “We’ll seal off the dimension.”

“What do you mean, seal off the dimension?” John asked.

Strange smiled. “You and I would be sealed in the citrine dimension forever.” He flushed when John smiled back.

“Well, I guess that means that we would be fossils trapped in amber. You know that shit sells for big bucks.”

“Big bucks? Could it be that my American vernacular is rubbing off on you?” Strange teased.

John stepped into his personal space. “Vernacular huh? Well, sure Strange, I think rubbing off is a perfectly sound analysis. I rub off on you, then you rub off on me, then back and forth. That’s what friends do, rub off on each other, right?”

Strange smirked, then a wave of dizziness assailed him. “John, are you sure you want to do this?”

John leaned in closer to him. “You had me at hello. Now, let’s go.”

***

John watched Strange move his hands in a circular motion, then a red vortex appeared and they both jumped in. He felt his chest tighten. The thoracic muscles squeezed tighter and tighter, until he began to panic. _I’m suffocating. I’m being buried alive._

“John, take my hand, you’re okay. I’m with you. Breathe, John. I have you in my arms.”

He opened his eyes, looking into Strange’s red ones, amber light outlined his silhouette, accentuating Strange’s perfect body. “Strange, it’s time to stop playing. We’ve danced long enough.” Then he laced his fingers around Strange’s occipital lobe, bringing his face down to his own level. He nipped at his lower lip, surprised when Strange granted him immediate access. His mouth salivated when he wrapped his tongue around Strange’s. It was thick and tasted wonderful— sweet and salty. _Oh, god, I’m mouth fucking Strange._ This thought spread to his lower extremities like a relentless forest fire. He pressed his hardening length into Strange’s thigh, unable to control his thrusting pelvis. _Jesus, I’m going to come and he hasn’t even touched me._ “Strange…,” he moaned, pulling his mouth away, so they could each catch their breath. “Strange, I need you. What do you want? I’ll do anything.” He moaned again when amber light shone on a patch of shinning salvia that clung to Strange’s lips. “Fuck….

“John, we can’t, not here. It’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care if we die in each other’s arms.”

“John…”

He took a deep breath. _God, I’m feel like an animal in heat. I don’t want to hurt him. I would be his first, as a man anyway. God, that’s hot._ “Strange, you must think I’m an animal.”

“No, John, I want you too. When all this is over my body is yours. You can feast on it.”

His heart pounded at the thought of rimming his beautiful sorcerer, but he’d have to settle for another kiss. “Kiss me, Strange.”

Strange’s lips met his own and they began to consume each other again.

The sound of Mordo’s clapping hands broke them apart. “So, Strange has lost his heart at last. How fitting that you should both be encased in the citrine dimension for eternity. Strange can have his unnatural lover, Doctor John Watson.”

John stepped forward. “So, you’re a bigot as well as an asshole.”

Mordo laughed in his face. “It appears that Master Strange has not told you everything, then?”

John looked at Strange. “What’s he talking about?” When Strange didn’t answer, he turned to Mordo. “What’s he talking about?”

Mordo smiled. “I’m not speaking of your affection for one another. I’m referring to his act of stopping time to save you. When you first met and your carotid artery became damaged, you bled out and died. Strange used the eye of agamotto to rewind time to save you.”

John looked over at Strange. “I died?”

Strange didn’t meet his eyes. “Well, almost, not exactly, not really…Yes, you bled out in my arms.”

“Jesus, Strange, why?”

A tear slid down Strange’s cheek. “Because you had me at hello.”

John swallowed. “You should have told me.”

Strange took his hand. “I tried, but there never seemed to be an opportune time.”

They both turned when they heard Mordo speak. “Strange, I have come to do what I swore to do. I have sworn that I would hunt out and kill all the sorcerers after I found out that the Ancient One used power from the dark dimension to keep herself alive, but I’m not heartless. If it’s John Watson you want, then you shall have him. You will live out your days here, then after you both breathe your last, your bodies will be encased in the citrine dimension for all time—a lesson to all those that would dare to defy the natural order of things.”

John watched, while Strange begged. “Please, Mordo, let John go. You can have me just let him go.”

Mordo shook his head. “Sorry, Strange, you have nothing to bargain with. Good-bye.” Then he raised his hands up, sealing them in their amber tomb.


	17. Astral Release

Strange looked at John and John looked back at him. They stared at one another. _How long? Centuries?_ When he leaned forward, John took the initiative again and he gasped when his fingers worked their way through the fabric of his clothing, groping the material folds until he reached his target—flesh. He shivered and John stopped.

“Are you okay, Strange?”

His body began to shake. “Yesss, I’m fffine.” Then he paused, taking a deep breath. “John, I’m not fine. It’s my illness and this dimension. They are crushing me. I must project into my astral body. We both must, if we are to survive.”

“So, what happens after that?”

“We will work on finding our way out of here.”

“And if that doesn’t work?”

“Then we shall remain here.”

“Okay, then astral projection it is.”

“I’ll help you transition first.”

John glared at him. “I can transition myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but it will go much smoother if I assist you.” He smiled, when John’s eyes narrowed and his body tensed. _I love that scowl._ “John, are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then please close your eyes.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

Strange swallowed, knowing how much it cost him to say it. “John,” he whispered. Then he bent forward, kissed his eyelids and in a gentle motion placed his thumbs against John’s third eye, lowering his temporal body to the ground when his spirt vacated it. He then slipped out of the cape of levitation. “I can’t take you with me old friend. Stay here and guard our bodies, especially John’s. I’m not finished with it yet.” The cape shuddered, then with reluctance detached itself from his shoulders. Then he took a deep breath, letting his spirit float away. _I’m always amazed how quiet this process is. You’d think that the spirt slipping of its temporal housing would make more noise, but it doesn’t._ He then thought of the Ancient One’s passing and wished her well.

***

John looked at Strange and gasped. “Strange, your eyes aren’t red anymore and neither is the eye of agamotto. What does it mean?”

“It means that if I die, the eye will return to normal.”

He crossed his arms across his chest. “Well, don’t get any ideas about being a hero. I want to instruct you in the ways of the flesh first.” The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, when Strange chuckled. _The sound of his laughter is so deep and rich, like the purring of a giant cat._

“We both need to relax, before we can think clearly.”

He floated closer to Strange. “What do you have in mind?”

“An astral technique that I read about in the Kuma Sutra.”

“Kuma Sutra? Say no more let’s relax.” He shivered when Strange fixed his green eyes on him.

“Are you ready?”

He nodded, allowing Strange to slip his spectral fingers inside his spirit. Then Strange reached a red vortex within his core and began to massage between his thumb and index finger. Bursts of tension came hard and fast—unbearable. _Stop, oh god stop, I can’t take it. I’m going to kick his astral ass if he doesn’t let up._ “Fuck, Strange, stop now.” Then his spirit shook and the painful bursts of tension became replaced with tendrils of warmth. His astral body vibrated with ripples of pleasure that arched his back in sine curves, over and over. _When are, they going to stop? Oh, who cares._ He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of his astral release.

When he opened his eyes, Strange smiled at him. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Holy fuck, yes. How much time has gone by?”

“Umm, it’s hard to tell in this dimension, but I’d say about 40 minutes.”

“You gave me a 40-minute orgasm?”

Strange looked at him, then laughed. “Not exactly.”

“Did I get an astral boner?”

“No, I stimulated the chakra points in your body that release during sex. The temporal body is not involved. It’s like…”

“Oh, who cares, no explanations. Teach me. I want to pop your astral cherry.”

Strange laughed again. “John, you’re…you’re a horny moron, but if we’re going to die in here we might as well get off before we do.”

“Now you’re talking.”

“John, center your one-point like you were taught in class. After you do this I will guide you through my chakra points.”

He closed his eyes, feeling surprised when he achieved a state of relaxation almost immediately. Then he opened his third eye and looked inside Strange, until he found the red ball of energy. “I found it.”

“Good, now massage it between your thumb and index finger.”

“Wow, it feels like a giant eyeball. It’s so hard.”

“Just keep massaging it, you’re going to have to pop it.”

“What? It’s as hard as an onion.”

“Press harder. Yes, that’s it.”

“This feels a lot harder than mine did.”

“John, I haven’t had sex in a long time. It’s going to take a bit of work to disperse it. Oh, god, shit…”

“Oh, Strange, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“Yes, a little but keep going, smash it between your palms if you have to.”

John pressed in hard pulses, while Strange shuddered around him. “Strange, we should stop. This isn’t working. Maybe the virus is affecting it.”

“No, John, please don’t stop, You’re almost there. That’s it, pop it between your palms.” He closed his eyes then pressed until it burst. Red bubbles floated through Strange’s chakra points and he shuddered in his arms. When the waves finally subsided, Strange looked up at him. “John, that was beyond belief. I…I have to rest now, sorry…”

“Rest Strange, we’ll find a way out of this together.” Then they lay back, letting their astral bodies drift further and further from their temporal ones’.

***

Wong bowed his head in sorrow. Mordo had trapped John and Strange inside the citrine dimension, sealing their fate. A small fluttering noise made him turn around. _What the hell? How did you get here?_ The cape of levitation flowed back and forth. “How did you get out of the citrine dimension? If you got out that means, there is a way out, doesn’t it?” Then he ran to summon the other sorcerers, with Brownie and the cape of levitation at his heels.


	18. You're the Relative to My Minor

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8ZgUwDQIYw>

Strange floated through the citrine dimension. _What am I? I have a pulse, but no heartbeat. I am making sounds, but have no voice. What am I? What was I? A sound surrounds me. I’ve heard it before; it’s a pitch. It’s F# of a major chord. I’m in the key of G major, but how? There is another that makes my heart sing. Who is he? What is he? He is…is a Doctor—John. I want to call to him, but I can’t. He is close. I can feel it. He could be any number of pitches. I run through a G major scale, panicking when I can’t find him. John, John, where are you? I float adrift becoming lost in every piece of music I’ve ever loved. The notes bombard my senses, Mozart, Bach, Beethoven, all perfect, all me. They are now the essence of who I am. If John, isn’t in G major, then where is he?_ He then smiled, scattering notes. _I know where you are, John, you are in my relative minor—E minor._

He then transitioned to John’s key. “John, I’m here,” he sang. “Don’t be afraid. I’m coming for you.” He then projected himself as the piano part in Mozart’s Sonata for Violin and Piano #21 in E minor. “Join me John, we are in unison here.” Then he heard John, strong and clear—a violin. “Oh, John you make a lovely violin. You must be a Strad.”

 Notes fluttered around him, then he perceived John’s voice in its string instrument form. “Flatterer.”

“John.”

“Strange, what are we?”

“We are music. I am G Major and you are E Minor.”

“Who picked the piece?”

“I did. Too highbrow?”

“No, it’s lovey, very sensual.”

“Join me here we are forte and together. You play, then I, until the last chord resolves. Here come the mournful tones of the second movement. This is how I feel about you, my love—my violin, answer me, penetrate me with each bow stroke, as I do you with each hammer strike of my piano keys. My hands no longer shake. The constraints from my injuries are gone. The temporal body is nothing more than a shell. The sonata is coming to an end. John, what piece will you choose?”

“Mmm, without hesitation—Summertime by Gershwin. Enjoy the seduction, Strange.”

Wong concentrated, losing himself in a meditative trance. “I’ve found them, but they’re dying.”

Another sorcerer stepped forward. “How do you know they’re dying? Where are they?”

“They are lost in…music.”

“Music?”

“Yes, I don’t understand but somehow they are pitches.”

“How can we make them comprehend the danger they are in?”

Wong shook his head. “I have no idea. I’m not capable of communicating with them. Their initial frequencies are too high for me or any other human to hear.” Then Brownie barked and a seldom seen smile transformed his austere features. “None of us can, but he can,” he said pointing to Brownie. Brownie barked again, wagging his tail, excited to be the center of attention.

“Get Master Allan in here, now.”

A few moments later a small man, entered the room. “Master Wong, what can I do for you?”

“You are a physicist, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Can you construct or do you know where we can get a machine capable of analyzing sound frequencies? Time is of the essence.”

Master Allan looked thoughtful, then smiled at him. “I think the University of Belgium has just such a machine, but it would take a fortune to ship it here and I don’t think the University would let such a valuable piece of equipment leave the premises.”

Wong took out his sling ring. “Then it’s a good thing we have these.”

“’I Melt with You’, really John?” Strange commented.

“Come on, who doesn’t like Modern English?”

“Cretin.”

“Snob.”

“Give me a challenge round, John.”

“Okay, fine what’s this?”

Strange listened, then sighed a B natural. “Seriously, John, ‘Summertime Sadness’?”

“What’s wrong with Lana Del Rey?”

“Nothing I just think that Born to Die is a bit morose.”

“Born to die?”

“The name of the CD, John, try to keep up little fiddle.”

“Hey, don’t try and patronize me. I took a class in music theory—Mister Percussion.”

“I’m impressed, John, I really am, king of stringed instruments.”

“Don’t feel slighted, Strange, you can hit me with your mallet any time.”

“Oh, to be the ebony fingerboard beneath your strings. I’m getting hard, just thinking of your metal strings pressing up against my firm wood.”

“Strange, I’m tremoloing all over the place.”

“It’s not my fault that you have no bow control.”

“Stop, I can’t stop laughing—tremoloing.”

“Try a trill instead, it may be less taxing.”

“Are you saying I don’t have any stamina.”

“Not at all, your sound peg and bridge are firm and upright, although there is something blocking your F-hole.”

“My what?”

“Get your strings out of the gutter, I talking about the s-shaped holes on either side of you.”

“Oh, let me tilt to the side. There, is that better?”

“Beautiful—John.”

“Come Strange let’s play a duet. I wish I were one of your piano strings, so that I could shudder every time your mallet touched me.”

“John, we will touch each other one day.”

“What if we can’t get back?”

“Then I shall have to be content to bask in the mellow tones you produce. Tones from your heart to mine, blending together—forever.”

“Strange did you hear that?”

“No, I can only hear you.”

“Get your head out of your ass. I heard something—a slight hum.”

“You’re probably producing overtones.”

“Shut up Strange and listen.”

“I try and pour out my heart to you and all I get is a smart ass pizzicato.”

“Sssh, listen, do you hear it?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“What is it?”

“I have no idea.”

Brownie howled and Wong apologized. “Sorry, boy, but you’re the only one who can hear the frequencies. Okay, Master Adam, generate that tone in pulses.” _Come on Strange. Come on John, answer._


	19. Only Time Will Tell

“John, I hear something, a shrill note. Do you hear it?”

“Yes, it’s as annoying as hell.”

“It doesn’t belong in our keys. John someone’s attempting to reach us. I’m going after it.”

“No, Strange, wait for me. Strange?” John floated in his minor key. _I’m lost without my major. Strange, where are you?”_ He felt himself becoming absorbed in the music— a soft mournful tune.

“John, it’s Strange, come follow me.”

“Of course, it’s you, who else would it be?” he snapped. “I’m sorry, Strange. I trust you, lead us out of this place.”

***

Brownie barked, while a cacophony of sound filled the room. Wong and the other sorcerers dropped to the ground covering their ears. John could feel himself materializing, but Strange struggled to regain his human shape and a fury rose in him. _Strange, is mine. Back off._  He summoned up his healing powers and fought the illness within Strange. “He’s mine,” he screamed, then all went black.

When he opened his eyes Strange lie beside him. “Strange,” he whispered, then crawled over to him. “Strange, open your eyes.”

“John?” Strange asked.

“Yes, I’m here, Strange.” Then he took Strange in his arms, holding him close, basking in his human scent. When he finally looked around him, he froze. Wong and a room full of sorcerers stared back at him. When Wong came towards him, he growled. “Get back. I’m his protector. He’s my major. I’m his minor.”

“John, it’s okay, we’re safe now.”

He looked down at Strange and his heart skipped a beat. “Strange, you’re eyes, they’re not red anymore.”

Strange smiled back at him. “No, you saved me.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when Brownie jumped on him, barking and wiggling his tail. “Hey, old boy, it’s good to see you.” Everyone started talking at once, but he ignored them, holding Strange’s gaze with his own. _God, I’m on fire. His eyes burn with lust, lust for me. Time to make the good Doctor Strange, sweat and burn._ His groin began to thump out a familiar savage rhythm and his nipples pebbled in hard nubs when Strange held out his hand. _Fuck, this man’s going to kill me. I can’t breathe. God, help me I’m going to burst in front of everyone._ His hand shook when Strange helped him up and it still rested in Strange’s when another sorcerer burst into the room.

“Mordo, has attacked the London Sanctum.”

Strange stepped forward, then looked back at him. “We have to go now.”

“Wait, you should be checked out first.”

Strange moved closer and whispered into his ear. “I thought that’s what you were doing, Doctor.”

His face colored, then he whispered back. “I’m going to get you for that.”

Strange then looked at him with a mixture of desire and anxiety. “When we’ve defeated Mordo, I’m all yours.”

“Oh, god yes, let’s take the bastard down.” He shouted, then his face colored when everyone stared back at him. “Okay, right then, sling rings out.”

 

Shields, and forged magical weapons lit up the room around them. Strange grimaced resisting the urge to kneel and attend the fallen. The cape of levitation swirled around him in a tornado of red silk, and John stood with him, while they fought back to back against Mordo’s summoned army. He reveled when, more of Mordo’s soldiers vanished. “Time to face off, Mordo, you’ve lost. Stop this quest and come back to us.”

“Never,” Mordo screamed.

“Surrender.”

“Never.”

“Then I shall have to take you down. I will take no pleasure in it. Please Mordo, I forgive you, now stop this.”

Sweat stood out on Mordo’s brow, then he smiled. “Strange, you think you have won, but trust me you are going to lose more than you can take.”

Strange frowned when Mordo’s hands rose—a funeral pyre for anyone unfortunate enough to get in their way. Then his eyes widened in horror when John stepped in front of him. “John, no I can take him.”

John slumped in his arms and Mordo laughed. “Strange, you are so gullible. Rest assured I have not killed John Watson, that would be too easy. I’ve infected him with a scrying device. He won’t die, but you both will suffer. You see Strange, I have balanced out nature once more. If you or John go near each other I will be able to destroy you both.  Oh, but that’s not all. You are both bonded to each other and time. Do you know what that means, Strange?”

Strange’s eyes misted and when he answered his tongue felt thick.“Yes, it means that not only will you be able to kill John and I but you will also be able to stop time.”

“Oh, Strange you think you are so clever. There will be no bargaining with Dormammu this time and if you suppose that you will be able to read about this spell, you won’t. It is a creation of my own and should you happen to kill me, then the spell will automatically come to fruition. However, I’m not heartless. You have approximately two minutes to verify the power nodules and say farewell to John. Goodbye, Strange, for now.”  

Strange looked down at John, then motioned for Wong to come forward. “Wong, help me check John to verify what Mordo said is true.” They ran their hands over John’s body, then Wong looked up at him and shook his head. Strange put his hands on either side of his head and wailed. “No, it can’t be, John.”

John looked up at him confused. “Strange, what happened?”

Strange smoothed John’s hair away from his eyes. “John, oh god, I can’t do this. I must say good-bye. I’m not going to be able to explain. There’s no time. John, please know this, I love you and I always will.” Then heedless of Wong and the others, he took John in his arms and kissed him. Warmth filled his mouth, when John’s tongue met his. Passion lit up all his chakra points, until he wanted to weep with the need to fulfill his desires. _Mordo, is right this is sheer agony._ He then pressed, one hand to his heart, and the other to his pelvis, then looked once more at John’s confused face, before he took out his sling ring and disappeared.

***

John stared after Strange in shock. _What just happened?_

Wong took his arm. “Come on, John, sit down and I’ll explain.”


	20. The Strange/Watson Letters

_Dearest John, it’s hard to find words. By now Wong would have explained why I had to leave so quickly. As much as I wanted to remain in your arms, I couldn’t let time stop, even for you. Wong has cast a spell on each letter I write to you, so that Mordo cannot trace it. Electronic communication can be traced, so snail mail it is. Sometimes the old ways are best. The letters will be sent to the London sanctum where you can write to me in return. I will find a way out of this, I promise. Everything reminds me of you, the Thai iced tea that the cook brews. She hands me a cup every morning and I want to weep when the first taste hits my lips. Her eyes search mine and we both know in that instant how much I miss you. One fucking glass of tea and that’s all it takes to inflame my desire. I want to put an ice cube on your chest, licking the remnants off your skin. I’ve lusted after people before, but it’s never been like this. I was teaching a class the other day, when thoughts of you began to torment me. I had to astral project out of my body, to hide the large boner that tented through my robes. John, what you do to me, it’s good, it’s bad, it burns to the point of dysfunction. I had the sheets from your room brought to me. I’ve preserved their scent, so that at any time I can access your musky aroma. It’s arid, it’s man, it’s you and many nights I’ve lain on the floor with my hand jammed between my legs, my teeth chattering, biting my lip until it bleeds from the want of you. God, I’ve got to stop this. I’m going insane. I want to make love to you. I want you to make love to me. I want to go down on you, taste you. I want you to fuck me—be my first._

_Okay, enough of this, time to speak of mundane things. I’m sorry, mundane routine things elude me. I love you dearest and I will find a way for us to be together. In the meantime, work will have to suffice. I’m told you’re teaching a class in healing at the London Sanctum and that you’re brilliant, which doesn’t surprise me a bit, John Watson. Give my love to our little dog, Brownie._

_Ever yours in any dimension, Strange_

_Dearest Strange, next time warn me about the explicit content of your letter to me. I took it to work to read during my break, and ended up wanking one off in the custodial closet, shot my jiz in the sink, wishing it was your mouth swallowing it down instead of a cold sink drain. I miss you too by the way, so much—too much. It’s hard for me to express my feelings, when you are so eloquent. By the way, I thought you hated Thai iced tea and as far as your little fantasy goes, ooh so good. I would want you to put the ice cube on the tip of your tongue, spearing it, then swirling it around my nipple numbing it, pulling on it with your teeth until I begged for mercy, Goanna make you burn, goanna make you sting—challenge round. Shit, back to the custodial closet._

_Okay, back now, my hands are a little slippery. I had to wash them several times, gives a whole new meaning to the phrase: Employees must wash their hands before returning to work. Well, now for a funny story. I had a butt plug installed in my shower, so that when I jerk off I can imagine the butt plug is your cock giving it to me. That’s not the funny part by the way. The funny part comes in when my house cleaner snapped it off the wall and put in Brownie’s bed, thinking it was a chew toy. He sniffed it, then proceeded to pee on it, then buried it in the back yard. Damn, I must buy a new one. What’s your favorite color? How can I love you so much and not know what your favorite color is? Strange, god, you are…are the most beautiful person. Study hard, find a way to come back to me. I’m lonely._

_Ever yours in any dimension, John._

_Dearest John, I’ve never laughed or cried so much, as when I read your letter. Should I be experimenting by buying my own butt plug, stretching myself until you can penetrate me? I’ve never been with a man. I don’t want to disappoint you. I peeked at you in the shower several times—you’re big. By the way my favorite color is blue. I swear the cape of levitation can read, it just went to the corner of the room in a huff. Okay, my favorite colors are red and blue. How’s that, little cape? It’s back. On a more serious note, if this drags on too long, I want you to move on, find…someone else. I want you to be happy. By the way you didn’t give me a challenge round, with the lyrics you quoted. Honestly, John, Black Dog, by Led Zeppelin? Too easy, but I adore you just the same and I can’t wait until you make me burn and sting. I wish we could watch a movie together. Don’t tell anyone or I would die of shame, but I would love to watch Roman Holiday with you after a rousing session or two of sex, just the two of us watching Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn—just the two of us.  By the way I’ve developed a taste for Thai iced tea. In fact, I crave it among other things. I wish I could be in the custodial closet with you when desire strikes. Imagine me there, sucking you off, fucking you senseless. Wait, hang on I don’t even know if you bottom or not? I don’t even know if I bottom or not. I’m scared and confused—tired. I need you. I’m depressed and in such a black mood. I’m sorry. I’m fine, just frustrated. I thought I was on the right track yesterday, then hit a dead end. Let’s plan a time where we can watch a movie at the same time. I’ll make popcorn.  You name the movie and the time and I will be here watching with you in spirit._

_Ever yours in any dimension, Strange._

_Dearest Strange, where do you get off telling me to move on? I will never move on never and as far as experimenting with butt plugs, don’t. I want to guide you, teach you, make you mine. Brownie is fine, though he avoids the area of the yard where he buried the plug. I’ve been working long hours. I’m exhausted. I’m cold and I miss you too. I’ll watch Roman Holiday if you watch Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure, there’s many a reference to 69! I’m on call for the next two days. Let’s plan for April 21 st 9 P.M. my time—our first movie date._

_Certain smells remind me of you. The lady that lives below me was baking some sort of cinnamon cake and I thought of you. Sex and Christmas, that’s what you are Stephen Strange. I love you every minute of every day in every dimension, John._


	21. Lock of Hair

_Dearest John, what did you think of Roman Holiday? Too romantic? Anyway, I thought of you the whole time and could swear that you were sitting next to me, holding my hand, nuzzling my neck and caressing my cheek. Mordo has managed to kill another sorcerer—a woman. She wasn’t part of the sanctum, but we still felt her loss. I’m sorry, my letters must depress you. On another note, I explored a new dimension, the other day— the compact dimension. I wouldn’t recommend it. It felt like being squeezed into a million pieces. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird. I haven’t been able to sleep, jacking off helps, but then I just feel devastated afterwards.  Tell me again how your thumb would feel pressed against the corona of my cock. Tell me of how it would feel if your tongue rested itself in my meatus. Shit, my whole body is pulsing with need. I’m going to get a cold shower. Promise, you will always let your thoughts flow freely in our letters, leave nothing out._

_I’m back. I enjoyed Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure more than I imagined. All references to 69 aside, I liked it. It felt good to belly laugh—different. What were you like as a teenager? I was a pain in the ass, opinionated, stubborn, arrogant, judgmental and hyper-critical. I once made an instructor cry. Should I write him a letter and apologize? I will never forget the stricken look on his face when I said, “You’re average, and will lead an average life, with average problems, an average wife, average kids, and when you die, your death will be listed in the obits under average.”  I would give anything to live an average life with you, because every average day would be better than any brilliance I’ve achieved in the past. I’m crying into my shirt sleeve now. Okay, back to the movie, my favorite part was when Bill called the Knight, who he thought killed Ted, a medieval dickweed, and of course “Put them in the Iron Maiden,” was funny too. Thanks for making me laugh—John Watson. I would be your loving medieval dickweed in any dimension, Strange._

_Dearest Strange, when talking about my tongue and thumb touching you, please refrain from using medical terms—it’s a turn off. Okay, I’m lying, I got off just the same. Let me reword things for you. When my thumb presses against the mushroom head of your cock, you’ll see stars, you’ll fucking beg me to stop, every vein that leads to your meat will begin to boil. I’ll show you mercy after a few moments of my thumb tormenting you.  I’ll pause, before I lick your slit, spearing my tongue into its narrow opening, tasting your precum on the tip of my tongue. I’ll then lean back, while you watch me swallow it down. You’ll then come so hard and so much that it will be felt in all dimensions—a cumquake. I’m full and throbbing as we speak, back to the custodial closet._

_I loved Roman Holiday, I’m not as unromantic as you assume. I felt the ending, it ripped at my heart. I would never have let you leave if you were Audrey Hepburn, but I’ve had to, haven’t I? Okay, my favorite part was the Mouth of Truth scene. I’ve seen way too many horror movies, because I thought that Gregory would lose his hand for sure. I almost got out my sling ring and left a lock of my hair in its mouth for you to find later, but then I thought that if I put my hand in the Mouth of Truth and found a lock of your hair…It would be too much. Strange, send me a lock of your hair, so that I can touch your DNA. Find a way, send it to me. I must take a break, will continue later._

_I saved a patient today, a young girl, that had gotten impaled with a metal spike, a freak accident. It had punctured her thoracic cavity and we had to act quick. I know it’s impossible, but I felt you there, guiding me. When her parents thanked me, I felt overwhelmed by the love and gratitude in their eyes. I felt you—you are love, Strange, at least for me at any rate._

_As far as the letter of apology, I think you should write it. I am shocked that you could be so cruel, but youth is often so. Don’t be too hard on yourself though, you’ve changed, made sacrifices that no person should have to make._

_Brownie is doing well, despite being neutered. Sorry, but I had to do it. I got sick of him humping my leg. I feel his eyes accusing me every time, I shut my door and wank one off. Maybe I should get neutered. No, I’m looking forward to the day I can make you mine, lowering my shaft deep within you. I miss you. I want to fuck you. I want to scream at you for being a sorcerer. I want to shake you, slap you, then weep in your arms. I need another break._

_The sun is shining, it’s a glorious day. I noticed it’s raining where you are. Sometimes I want to be a bleep on the weather map, so that I can blink at you. Well, I’d better enjoy the sunshine, fall will soon be upon us. I love you, my free-flowing thoughts are yours, as is my heart. Ever yours in every dimension, your medieval dickweed, John._

_Dearest John, I’m enclosing a lock of my hair. Wong has put a protection spell around it, so that it cannot be traced back to you. I await your lock in return. Who would have thought a lock of hair could be so important? I’ve misjudged the Victorians and their hair jewelry. I miss you, too._

_We’re preparing for fall classes and the sanctum is abuzz with activity. Wong worries over me like a mother hen and I smile when he does. He is convinced that you will kill him, if I lose too much weight. Though, you haven’t mentioned it, I know you are concerned. I am eating, just not too much. I am fasting so that my body can regenerate. It gives clarity to my thoughts.  You must take care as well. I want you fit for our reunion. I am working on new leads now. We will be together._

_I wrote the letter to my instructor and felt better afterwards._

_Now, for the salacious part of the letter. I tried experimenting with lube, while sticking a finger up my ass. Umm, I didn’t care for it. I think I will heed your advice and wait until you can teach me in person. I spared a little time to research rimming. It sounds kind of gross. I love watching it on porn videos and I’m sure it feels marvelous, but I would never ask it of you. I find myself at a loss. I don’t know what to ask, when we finally consummate our relationship. Okay, yes, I know, fuck me, but other than that I’m not sure. I’m used to being the dominant one, but find myself willingly to submit to you. Sometimes I lie spread eagle on my bed, wondering what you will do to me first. What will you expect me to do? Will we need to shower first? Will anal sex make me to go to the bathroom? Will it hurt so much that I will never want you to touch me again? I’m sorry, I should erase this, but we promised that we would let our thoughts flow freely, without regret. I ache for you. Yours in every dimension, Strange._


	22. Fall Tricks and Treats

Dearest Strange, it’s Halloween—Boo. I’m not doing anything special, working the graveyard shift and I fully expect to see all sorts of stupid injuries. After my shift is through, I will go home, drink, eat candy, and listen to my pancreas and liver shriek. I miss you. Life is becoming mundane—predictable. Though my passion is still as strong for you as the day we met, I feel apathetic, not towards you my lovely sorcerer, but towards everything in general. My favorite foods have lost their savor, a sunny day escapes me and saving a patient only makes me long for the time when we will be together. I love you Strange and it’s that thought that keeps me warm, makes my heart beat within its thoracic cage, restores my bruised spirit. I’m listening to a Chopin Nocturne, perhaps I should stop listening to Frederick Fucking Chopin. He understands heartbreak though, and sometimes I just want to wallow.

Now for the good stuff. I can’t wait to rim you, that will be the snack that makes my mouth water. Don’t think of it as gross, because it will be my greatest pleasure, to feel you writhe beneath me, while I spear your hole with my tongue. No, I’ve never done it or experienced it, but I can’t wait to please you. The only requirement I will require of you when we finally consummate our relationship, is your absolute ecstasy. Lay there, while I pound you into the mattress, arch your hips into my thrusts, or just lean back and enjoy the ride. As far as the anal sex thing and having to take a shit, sorry I’m not as eloquent as you, be serious, you’re a doctor. Clean yourself out with an enema, take a shower, and pop on over for a lovely fuck from yours truly. Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow and don’t worry if you crap, I won’t care one little bit. Sex is messy and unpredictable. You sound like a virgin, not to put you down by the way, because I know you’ve been with women. Have you ever gone down on a woman or had a blow job? Don’t be embarrassed to tell me, I’m a doctor and an ER doctor at that. As far as for it hurting, I won’t lie to you, it might, but again we’ll take it slow and if you don’t like penetration, no big deal, I will bottom for you. There’s more to life than sex, I can’t believe I just wrote that, and remember that it’s you I want, just you, your spirit, your essence, I want to line up your chakra points and swallow them whole, until any sorcerer worth his or her salt won’t be able to tell where you begin and I end. My touch will be gentle and you will crave it as you would air. Even if I never lay a hand on you, you will shudder under my gaze and your heart will know it’s found a home within mine. I love you, Strange. Ever yours in any dimension, John.

 

Dearest John, you sound depressed and it grieves me to think that our being apart is the cause of it. Try to find joy in the little things and remember that when you save a patient, or feel the sun upon your face or take a bite of your favorite chips, I’m there in spirit enjoying them with you. I’ve been meditating day and night. During one session, I thought I could feel you and I drove towards you with a speed faster than the Lamborghini I wrecked, then I felt a malevolent presence and backed off. I almost reached you! Halloween, it’s hard to believe it’s October. Time gets away from one here. Though the holiday is bigger in the U.S., it has no happy memories for me. I wasn’t allowed to trick or treat. I did dress up one year. You’ll never guess what I was, a Doctor? No, I was a character of my own creation—a superhero pirate. I’ll see if my mom will send me a childhood picture. We aren’t close, she’ll be surprised to hear from me. My parents never said the words, “I love you,” not once. Why did they have me, or was I an accident? Aw, well too much idle speculation. You and the sanctum are my family now.

Things are busy here, fall classes and such. No matter their age, they all seem young to me. I am Master Strange—the sorcerer. I’m not human to them. I take my time with each student and am amazed at how patient I’ve become. I used to move fast. My hands were lovely, my long white fingers could coax a Chopin melody out of a keyboard, and there was no surgeon as good as me. I was the best. I feel old and slow, until I raise my hands, letting the magic of the universe course through my shaking fingertips, but even then, I’m not whole without you. I miss you and love you.

Okay, now for the sex stuff. I’ve never gone down on a woman, what’s it like? I’ve also never had a blow job. I’ve had offers, but never wanted the pleasure until now. I’m a boring lover, without much experience. The missionary position was my preference. I was a selfish lover, only thinking of my own needs and I’m embarrassed to tell you that my staying power was nil. Wham bam than you mam. I can’t wait to do better with you. My hands are starting to sweat at the thought of stroking you. I’m hungry for you in every sense of the word—sexually, spiritually and physically. I was touched by your offer of a platonic relationship, but trust me I’m going to explode on you like a time altering spell gone wrong.

Well, trick or treat? The trick will be to get to you and the treat will be your cock in my mouth. What a lovely image. God, John, I don’t know whether to spout poetry or to talk dirty to you. Talking dirty sounds cheap and tawdry, but then the thought of my words getting you off destroys any discernment on my part.

We shall be notes in that great Symphony  
Whose cadence circles through the rhythmic spheres,  
And all the live World’s throbbing heart shall be  
One with our heart, the stealthy creeping years  
Have lost their terrors now, we shall not die,  
The Universe itself shall be our Immortality!

_Oscar Wilde_

_Too Poetic? Fine, I want to fuck you John Hamish Watson. Ever yours in every dimension, Strange._

_Dearest Strange, Christ you’re a romantic, not complaining by the way. As far as me being depressed, I’ll be fine. I’m sorry, your childhood sounds as abysmal as mine. My mum took off when I was young and my dad died when I was 14. The next four years were hell. I was in foster care, need I say more. The air is crisp and instead of being sad that you aren’t here to share it with me, I interpreted the nip of wind upon my cheek as a kiss from you, and when I took a bite of a firm green apple, I imagined your muscled ass between my teeth. How’s that for romantic poetry? I love you too by the way, more than life itself._

_In general, I’m getting by, spending too much money on stupid shit, like shoes and shirts I don’t need and will never wear. Why do I need another pair of dress shoes and another silk shirt when you aren’t here to go out with? I’ve also been collecting comics and reading about every superhero in existence. All of them seem to have one thing in common, they’re alone. Well, we’re going to break the mold, you and I. You aren’t going to be alone, correction, we aren’t going to be alone._

_So, you’ve never gone down on a woman and want to know what it’s like? God, that’s hot. It’s soft and tight, with a firm bundle of nerves at the top. She moves beneath you and your tongue releases her. My tongue will do the same for you, coaxing the come from you with each lick, until you shoot your load down my throat. It will be heaven on earth. You’ve never had a blow job?! Jesus, my work is cut out for me. As far as the missionary position goes, prepare to levitate. I’m going to fuck you in the shower, 69 with you, upside down and inside out. Jesus, I’m as hard as a rock, gotta take care of it, be right back._

_Back now, relieved but not sated. I miss your touch on my cock, though I’ve never felt it. How can I miss something I’ve never felt? Weird, heartbreaking and lovely all at the same time. How can I top your ending? Quoting Oscar Wilde, you’re a pretentious bastard, Strange, but I love you. Okay, I’m off to do a Google search for a love quote? Listen to Whataya Want From Me, not a challenge round, I know, too easy._

“Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they’re born.” F. Scott Fitzgerald. How’s that for a love quote? Oh, and I want to fuck you too, Stephen Strange. Ever yours in any dimension, John.


	23. E=MC2

_Dearest Strange,_

_Happy Thanksgiving, otherwise known as the suppression of the indigenous peoples’ holiday, no seriously it’s a lovely thought to give thanks for the good things in one’s life. I thank the universe for YOU. I’ve volunteered to work Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and every other holiday between now and the end of the year. My comfort will be in the hope that as I work to save others’ loved ones, an idea will come to you to save us and bring you to me once more. I love you and I can’t wait to wrap my arms around your broad shoulders._

_I bought a motorcycle the other day, it’s sea green the color of your eyes. It cuts down my commute time and as I race through the city, I feel your presence in each burst of adrenaline that flows through my glands. It would have sounded more romantic to write veins, but we are doctors after all, so glands it is. The first few month of our separation were unbearable, but I now find myself smiling throughout the day with thoughts about you—the memory of you when you fell on your ass, when I caught you jacking off, the glimpses of your muscled ass in the shower, curling up next to you, your compassion towards me and the many changes of your facial expressions—sad, mad, happy, eyes glazed over, filled with lust and longing for yours truly. Sigh._

_The universe is a better place with you in it. I look forward to the day you can hold my hand and my balls between your trembling fingers.  Seriously, I long for you. Ever yours in any dimension, John._

_Dearest John,_

_I am beside myself with worry. You bought a motorcycle, seriously? Do you know how many scrambled brains I’ve tried to patch together after a bike accident? Too many to count. I know you are brave and crave excitement like an addict craves the needle, but John I beg you to be careful. The thought of you racing around London, on a bike sends chills down my spine. By the way, I thought you didn’t drive, when did you learn? Please be careful._

_Thanksgiving, wow to tell you the truth I’d forgotten. I spent the holidays at school, so Thanksgiving means nothing to me, that is until now. I am thankful for you too. I can’t wait to be stuffed by you. Now, I’m blushing and sweating, you turkey._

_I’ve been studying Quantum Physics, to understand the nature of our universe. I’m hoping that if I can calculate how the passage of time works in our dimension, then I might be able to figure out how to manipulate it. I know that Einstein stated that there is no concept of time, but it’s the only frame of reference I can think of to describe my intentions. Einstein would have made a wonderful sorcerer._

_I don’t have much spare time these days, but I did manage to download an old movie called Scavenger Hunt. Just as I was about to dismiss it as late 70’s junk, it got funny. I laughed my ass off, but don’t worry there’s still enough ass for you to play around with. Watch it, laugh and think of me. Laugh please. When you do, I’m certain that the decibels of our merriment will find each other. I love and miss you too. Ever yours in any dimension, Strange._

_Dearest Strange,_

_Did you call me a turkey? Wow, a blast from the past indeed. Scavenger Hunt, oh my fucking god, I downloaded it and it was fucking hilarious. My bad taste is rubbing off on you. My work is done. Ah, I can’t wait to rub off on you. On the other hand, I watched a romantic movie, Somewhere in Time. I feel like a pussy because I cried at the end—blasted penny. What are pennies good for anyway? Watch the movie, then you’ll understand. Come back to me—Strange. Seriously, when we are together again, I want to spend some time at The Grand Hotel, Mackinaw Island, Michigan. It looks beautiful and there are no cars allowed on the island. Imagine the slower rhythm, no cars, no buses, no trains, just the sound of horses’ hooves clattering on the streets. We could get a room, fuck all night, lay in bed all day, pretending that it’s just the two of us on the planet, the universe, and all the dimensions put together._

_Don’t worry, I’m being careful on the bike. I’ve always been able to drive, it’s just that…that I stopped after my tour. I was a first responder when one of the Hummers in our unit got blown up. Every time I attempted to drive, all I saw was the blood and guts of my buddies splattered all over the windows, seats, gearshift, bits of flesh embedded in the vents, god it was awful. I feel sick just thinking about it. Seeing blood on the operating table is a lot different than seeing it blown everywhere, like a sick kind of spray paint—a tag of death. Strange, oh god, Strange, I’m shaking. I’m going to take Brownie for a walk._

_I’m back, took Brownie for his walk and his joy transformed me. We think that they are just pets, but they are glimpses of how the universe could be if humans weren’t here to fuck things up. Back to the whole bike thing, when I ride I think of you and I feel free, like you are wrapping me in the cloak of levitation and sanctifying me with your love. Just the thought of you calms me. Oh, and by the way I can’t wait to hold your balls in my hand. I’ll fondle them, then lazily wrap my lips around each one, reveling in their soft, uneven texture. Take care of yourself Strange. When we next meet, I’m going to split you wide open, gently coaxing your flesh into submission, until I can fuck through it’s warm, tight creases. Mmm, my mouth is watering in anticipation of the taste of your balls and dick. Fondle yourself for me. Ever yours in any dimension, John._


	24. A Slow Day

_Dearest John, you undo me every time, fondle my balls indeed. The weather’s been cold, it’s almost Christmas. In the sanctum, holidays are moot point because of our diverse backgrounds. Though holidays were never a thing for me, I find I miss them, or the concept of them. You and me, sitting in front of a roaring fire watching It’s a Wonderful Life, it sounds cheesy and appealing at the same time. What would my life have been without you in it? Empty. I wonder if the universe knew that when you were born, you would be my saving grace, my love—my all._

_I suppose you will be working through the holidays, like myself. The winter solstice is almost upon us and I feel a change in the air. The longest day of the year will seem longer without you. My letter will be short because I have an awful cold and my head is pounding. I can’t wait to be split open by you, to fondle you, to be fondled and to physically loose myself in your carnal exploration of my body. Yours in every dimension, Strange._

_Dearest Strange, I’m sorry you have a cold. I hope you are resting and drinking plenty of fluids. I worry about you constantly. I am still riding my motorcycle through town and being careful as ordered by the one who has mastered my soul—YOU. The cold numbs me, which is a good thing, because it takes my mind off how much I miss you. It is a small distraction that I welcome during my daily commute. Yes, I will be working through the holidays. I have December 21 st off, the longest day of the year, and I will use it to contemplate my carnal exploits upon your person. I expect the ER to be full of stupid drunks, victims of domestic disputes and those suffering anxiety attacks brought on by, stress, boredom and loneliness. They remind me of caged animals, resenting captivity, unable to free themselves. Well, that is a depressing thought. Happy Christmas. _

_I fantasize about what our first time will be like and then I freeze. Let’s not kid ourselves, all night long is not what it used to be. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I don’t shoot my load as soon as I catch sight of your dick. Trust me even if I blow too soon, I’m going to explore you with my fingers and tongue. I’ll insert my lubricated digits up your ass, while I let you taste the come from my head. I hope you like salty food. It tastes better than soy sauce. Mmm, I’m getting hard at just the thought of you tasting me. I’m jerking off now. My hands are covered with my jiz I’m smearing it on the page. Scratch and sniff time. Now that my dick has quieted down, time to talk dirty again. I’m going to ride your cock, like a pogo stick, riding up and down it so hard, you’ll think your head is going burst. You’ll see stars. I’m going to fuck you unconscious, Strange. When you come to, I’ll be rimming you and you’ll wonder if you’re awake or in some fantastic wet dream. Well, maybe not. I want to own your body, but I want to be gentle too. Jesus, I sound like a chick. Loving you has turned me into a pussy. You’ve ruined me, Strange and I don’t care. Ruin me, break me, take me. Yours in every dimension, John._

_Dearest John, I welcome any head injury you have planned. So, my taciturn soldier has become a pussy cat? Umm, don’t worry pussy, Strange will know how to make you purr. I’m not afraid of kitty’s claws because I know he loves me. I don’t know if this means anything, but I haven’t been able to jerk off. When we are together again, you may have to work a little harder than you’d planned. I won’t worry, though. I believe that when I catch sight of your massive dick, I’ll respond accordingly._

_My cold has relinquished its hold on me and I am working with some of my advanced students on the defense mechanism that allows them to slow an attacker’s moves without drawing power from the dark side._

_Please remember to keep bundled up when riding your motorcycle, dehydration can cause a person to succumb to fatigue rather quickly._

_I’m depressed. I miss you, and I fucking hate Christmas. I walked through the snow and thought of you. I looked behind at my own footprints, wondering why yours were not beside mine. I’m keeping my powers of concertation at their maximum through fasting and meditation, but find that my mind wanders. The mirror dimension is the only place where I feel safe. Its shattered fragments remind me of my own fragility. I used to be able to fix anything, now I’m afraid. What if I can’t reach you until we’re old/ What then? I’m sorry. I must stop these morbid introspections, Happy longest day of the year, otherwise known as John’s Massive Dick Day. Ever yours in any dimension, Strange._

_Dearest Strange, I love how you fuss over me. I’m wearing a warm jacket when I ride, with armor on the elbows, shoulders and back, level three protection, just in case I take a tumble. I bought an extra helmet for you, so that when you come to me you can ride my dick and my motorcycle. I swear my cock just jumped a foot, like some predator on the Nature Channel. When animals attack, ha, ha._

_Try to distance yourself from the fact that Christmas is a time for families. Remember you have Wong and your sanctum family and you have me in spirit. We’ll find a way, don’t give up and please get plenty of rest. I find myself worrying about you as well._

_On a lighter note, Brownie has mastered the art of walking on a leash and harness. He looks like quite the prim and proper little chap in his dapper sweater and gear. I can tell he misses you though. Whenever I say your name, he whines. He will be so happy to see you. I will give him and moment or two, then it will be my turn, to lick you. Wishing you were here so that I could lick your face. Ever yours in any dimension, John._


	25. December 21st

“John, you like hell.”

John grinned. “Thanks, Launa, I can always depend on you to lift my spirits.”

“Well, promise me that you’ll at least do something fun on your day off.”

His smile faded. “Fun is overrated. I’ll settle for Strange over and over.”

Launa looked back at him. “Doctor Watson, you are the strangest person I’ve ever met. If your heart didn’t belong to another, I could fall in love with you, you know?”

He traced her cheek with his finger. “I know, but my heart is Strangelocked.”

Launa laughed. “Try to enjoy yourself. I won’t see you until after the holidays so Happy Christmas, John.”

He smiled and though his lips turned up, his eyes reflected no joy. “Happy Christmas, Launa.”

The crisp air from outdoors should have invigorated him, it didn’t. _God, it’s fucking cold out here. I’m going to have a nice ride home. I’ll be lucky if I don’t freeze my balls off._ He then shrugged into his jacket, put his helmet on and zoomed off into London traffic, fighting its claustrophobic madness at every turn.

Once inside his flat, he threw his helmet down on the ground, gave Brownie a quick pat, then stripped down and jumped into the shower. Chill bumps appeared on his arms and legs when the warm water hit his chilled, clammy skin. _Umm, that feels good._ He lathered up, enjoying the way the soap streamed down his back, into his crack, clumping around his balls and dick, until it pooled around his feet in a lukewarm puddle. He then rinsed himself, stepped out of the shower, towel dried his shivering body, and slipped on a pair of pants and a t-shirt.

_I think I’ll get drunk, then watch some telly and pass out. Jesus, why won’t brownie stop barking?_ He walked into the other room. “Brownie, for Christ’s sake stop that noise.” Then he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. _Shit, my automatic is in the bedroom._ He whirled around, in a defensive stance, then froze. _Jesus, oh my fucking god, it’s Strange._

Strange stepped into the light. “John, it’s alright. It’s me, Strange.”

He couldn’t speak. _Oh fuck, I’m going to faint. Strange, Strange…_

Strange took a step closer. “I’m sure you’re wondering how I came to be here. Well, you see it’s December 21st, the equinox, the longest day of the year and it’s the one time that Mordo can’t track you. I guess I should have figured out a way to let you know, but I didn’t want to waste any time. We have 24hours and I… John? Oh, god, are you alone? You don’t seem happy to see me. I should have let you know. I…”

He looked at Strange, then crossed the room, and grabbed the back of Strange’s neck, kissing him with an intensity that left them breathless. His tongue sought Strange’s, relentless in its pursuit. He then guided Strange’s hand to his groin, letting him feel the hardness that had begun to make his flaccid cock ache. “Still, think I’m not happy to see you?”

Strange looked back at him, his eyes glazed over with lust. “Okay, I stand corrected, Doctor.”

He licked his lips, then reached to undo the sash, that held up Strange’s trousers. The cape of levitation slid along the back of his legs, tickling him. He caught his breath, then stopped. “Strange, if the cape doesn’t stop feeling me up, I’m going to take the pinking shears to it.” Brownie barked at their feet, while Strange shrugged the cape off.

He took Strange’s hand. “We’d better continue this in the bedroom. Just let me check to make sure Brownie’s doggie door is unlatched.” He checked it, then took Strange’s hand and led him to the bedroom.

Strange shivered under his touch— surrendering. His hands shook and they both removed the rest of Strange’s clothing. “My god, you’re beautiful.”

Strange’s eyes grew large and he leaned back on the bed, spreading his legs. “I just showered and prepared and…”

He put a finger to Strange’s lips. “I suppose we should talk about how you came to be here, but I just want to fuck. I love you, but oh Jesus, fuck, I’m going to come. Hold on let me concentrate.” Then he closed his eyes, going deep within his astral body, to cool the angry red circle of lust within his spirit. He felt Strange with him and shuddered. When he opened his eyes Strange had positioned himself between his legs. “John, make love to me.”

He wanted to devour Strange. He then swatted Strange’s legs apart, brought his head down and began to spear Strange’s hole with his tongue. Strange moaned, pulling at his hair, shifting beneath him. “Oh god, John…

He grabbed the lube, then stopped when Strange’s green eyes met his. He looked down and to his shame began to cry. “Strange, I can’t…I’m…

Strange held out his arms and he collapsed into them, weeping. “Sssh, it’s okay,” Strange soothed. He rubbed his tear stained face against Strange’s collarbone, while Strange fondled his hard cock. “Sometimes the classics are the best,” Strange whispered into his ear.

He looked into Strange’s glittering eyes, forgetting the disappointment he felt at his own lack luster performance and began to jerk Strange off. Strange moaned into his ear. “Umm, feels so good.”

He regained just enough of his composure to enjoy the feel of Strange’s shaking fingers moving their way up and down his own hardened cock. Together they brought each other to the edge and together they came.

“What are the odds of us coming together?” Strange whispered.

“I’d say astronomical. Very Strange.” He whispered back. Then he sat up, preparing to get up and have a moment to himself, but Strange grabbed him. “Where are you going?”

“To get something to clean us up.”

“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s lick each other clean.”

He smiled, then looked away. “I was going to fuck you into the mattress. I’m sorry.”

Strange grabbed his arm. “John, don’t ever say you’re sorry. This was our first time. I’m surprised I didn’t blow when I first set eyes on you in those tight little briefs. Come on lick me clean, then let’s play around. I want to finger you, and butt plug you and rim you, kiss you, hold you and smell your musky scent all over my body.”

He laughed when Strange began to bounce on all fours. “Are you sure you haven’t been taking lessons from Brownie?”

“Come on John, let me play with you.” Strange growled.

“Okay, fine but I draw the line at letting you pee on me.”

Strange lifted his leg. “Come on John, stretch me.”

He grabbed the lube, coated his fingers, and began to make experimental thrusts into Strange’s tight little hole. “You’re not going to be tight after I’m done with you. That is if I can manage it.”

Strange licked a dollop of come off his stomach, then pulled him closer. “John, we’ll get there and I know it’ll be great.”

He leaned in and kissed Strange, tasting himself on Strange’s tongue, then he pulled away. “But we only have 24 hours.”

Strange’s eyes grew moist. “Then let’s not waste time berating ourselves. Let’s make the most of it. Promise?”

He nodded, resting his head against Strange’s. “Promise.”


	26. Doctor's Don't Cry

Strange traced John’s collar bone with his finger, letting it linger on the puckered scar that marred his shoulder. _I could have lost him._

“Strange, are you okay?”

He looked down at John. “Yes, I was just thinking how I could have lost you when you were…were…, you know…”

John smiled, licked his lips, then looked away. “You mean, shot?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“And here I was thinking you were going to berate my performance.”

“John, you could never disappoint me. We both know that anticipation can be a dangerous thing. We have the rest of the day.”

“You know Strange, I don’t mean to be critical, but December 21st is the shortest day of the year and June 20th is the longest day.”

“Not in the reverse dimension.”

John covered his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Jesus, a reverse dimension. You mean a parallel universe?”

He cocked his head to one side. “Not exactly.”

“Okay, well who cares? I’m not up to a long explanation. I’m as tired as fuck, wondering how I’m going to stay awake for 24 hours. I don’t want to miss a second.”

He pulled John closer, wishing he could mold his warm body into his own. _His flesh one with mine, no beginning, no end, just the two of us molded together like a clay sculpture—perfect._

“Jesus, Strange what are we going to do? I can’t keep my eyes open.”

He smiled. “Lean back, I will place a spell on us. It will allow our bodies to be fooled into thinking they’ve had a full night’s rest.” John’s expression brightened, taking his breath away.

“Okay, so what about tomorrow?”

He smiled back. “You’ll be as tired as fuck, whatever that means.”

John looked at him, then closed his eyes. “Cast your spell upon me, Strange.”

He closed his eyes, moved his hands, then opened his eyes. John sat up in a panic.

“How long have I been asleep? You should have woken me up.”

“John, it’s alright. Look at your watch.”

John looked down at his watch. “I don’t understand. I feel as if I’ve gotten a full night’s sleep and barely a minute has gone by.”

He winked at John, noting with pleasure the small flush that darkened his cheeks. “Why are you so surprised? I am a Master Sorcerer.”

John grinned, then straddled him. “Strange, being your master is a pleasure I’ve long looked forward to.”

He gripped John’s forearms. “What if I want to be your master?”

John’ knees squeezed towards each other, trapping his narrow hips in a tight grip. “Hmm, then we might have to battle for domination, but before we do let’s get a shower. I want to take you around on my motorcycle and show you London, the way it’s meant to be seen.”

He wriggled his body, then stopped struggling when John bent down and kissed him. _Feels so good and that’s definitely not a flugelhorn pressing into my thigh._

When John pulled away, he felt bereft. _John…_

John jumped up. “Come on let’s suds each other up in the shower.”

He smiled, then ran after John, joining him in the small bathroom. He looked around, observing the room of a man alone—one toothbrush, one towel, one razor. His chest ached when he thought of the loneliness that bore down on them each day. John turned on the water, tested it, then looked around the shower curtain, blinking when beads of water cascaded down his face.

“Come on, don’t be shy. Get in here.”

He grinned, then joined John, standing a head or two above him. “This feels a bit awkward.”

“What? You mean this?” John asked in a husky voice.

His breath caught in his throat, when John began to lather his balls and cock with soap. “Um…”

“What? You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that…”

“Oh Christ, don’t tell me you haven’t taken a shower with a lover before?”

“Well, um not exactly. I mean not in the sense that you… Okay no.”

John turned the water down, then looked at him. “Come here, Strange.”

He stepped forward, noting John’s growing erection. “Okay, I’m here.”

“Rest your chin over my shoulder, and spread your legs a little.”

He closed his eyes, shivering when John’s finger slipped inside.

“Does that hurt?”

He shook his head.

“It burns a little, right?”

He nodded.

“Strange, look at me. If you don’t like it say so. For fuck’s sake, I cried in front of you and I still don’t know why. Soldiers aren’t supposed to cry and neither are Doctors, but I did.”

He looked at John then put his head down on John’s shoulder once again. “It’s just that…”

“Ssh, go on tell me, Strange,” John whispered.

“It seems so one sided. I don’t seem to be able to seduce…I mean with my other lovers, things just sort of happened.”

John’s eyebrows rose. “Trust me, you could seduce with one look. You are as sexy as hell. How about a bj?”

He shook his head, then stammered. “I want something mutual.”

John leaned his head to one side, like a puppy. “Okay, let’s do a little bump and grind.”

He closed his eyes, shivering when John’s thick cock ground against his own. “Umm…”

“Is that good?”

“Yes,” he hissed, then thrust against John over and over, gripping his upper arms just before he came.

John held him close, letting the water run over them, then he reached up and twisted the faucets. They squeaked, then the water stopped. His green eyes bored into John’s blue one’s. “Should I have lasted longer?”

John grinned. “Strange, we’re getting used to one another. We’re not going to break any endurance records. Now come on get dressed, let’s ride my motorcycle. I can’t wait to feel your hard cock bumping into my ass as we ride.”

Strange raised an eyebrow. “John, I’m not superman and I don’t think that…”

John put a finger to his lips. “Stop thinking, Strange. Enjoy yourself, that’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” he answered, noting with satisfaction when chill bumps covered John’s arms. _My sexy low voice gets him every time._


	27. Through a Visor Darkly

Strange watched John while he dressed, the way he stepped into his boxers, the way he reached for a t shirt, and the way he slipped it on favoring his left shoulder. _John…_

“Okay, you’re staring again. What is it?” John asked, then licked his lips with a nervous swipe.

He opened his mouth to say something, then blushed and stopped. “John, I love watching you.” _Oh Jesus, that sounded lame. Fuck, I can’t take it back. Maybe I should do a quick time variance spell and take us both back in time a few seconds— to before I made an ass of myself._

John laughed, then stepped forward and kissed him. He enjoyed the feel of John’s tongue in his mouth, then gasped when John expertly cupped his balls. “Okay, well someone’s done a few prostrate exams in his career,” he breathed when John’s finger did a quick dip between his ass cheeks.

John pulled away, winked, then swatted him on the butt. “Come on get dressed Sorcerer Supreme, I want to take you around London on the back of my bike and show you off.”

He gave John a tentative smile, then started to get dressed. John watched him the entire time, grinning like a cat. He smiled back. “You look like the cat that ate the canary.”

John got up crossed the room, lining up their torsos, then pushed him back. “You’re damn fucking right I gonna eat the canary.”

He blushed then looked at himself in the mirror and frowned. “I’m a bit conspicuous, don’t you think?”

John came up behind him, putting both hands around his waist, pulling him into an embrace. “Yes, everyone in London will be at your feet, including the Queen.”

“But I don’t want to be fucked by the Queen.”

John gave him a stern look. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

He bowed. “Yes, sir.”

John raised an eyebrow, walked towards the closet, then stopped and came back, kissing him on the nose. “You are so fucking distracting. Turn around so those green eyes don’t do their magic glowy thing on me.”

He turned around, then heard John sigh. “Oh, Christ, that tight ass is no less tempting. Go in the other room. I’ll be right there.”

He then left, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. _Just leaving the room he occupies, and I feel bereft. How can I let him go again?_

A few moments later and his body temperature spiked. John walked in carrying a jacket and a helmet.

“Here put these on. I had to guess your size, but then it should be a good approximation, considering how much time I’ve spent undressing you in my mind.”

His cheeks flushed, when he took the jacket from John’s hands. He then slipped it on. “Perfect fit.”

“Now, put on the helmet.”

“I love it when you order me about soldier.”

John took a step forward, helping him ease into the helmet. _His warm, thick fingers upon my neck, caress me like a summer breeze._

“Hey, earth to Strange. What’s up?”

He looked down and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Come on what were you thinking? No, secrets, remember?”

“Fine, but you’re going to think I’m an idiot. When you slipped the helmet on me, this is what I thought. Your warm, thick finders upon my neck, caress me like a summer breeze.”

John didn’t answer and he felt a trickle of sweat gather underneath the lining of the helmet. “See I told you it was stupid.”

John stepped forward, lifted the helmet’s visor and peeked inside. “That was possibly the most beautiful thing anyone has said about my fingers. I’ve always thought them too round and stubby.”

He smirked. “Thick has a much better connotation, don’t you think?”

John leaned forward and licked the side of his cheek. “The better to fuck you with my dear.”

He laughed. “Nice poetry.”

He then shivered when John rested a hand on his hips, pulling him closer. “Oh, I and my thick fingers can be quite nice.”

His breath caught in his throat, and John smiled, nudging his legs apart. “Don’t spread them too far. I just want to give you a little over the top action.”

He sighed, when John cupped his balls, then a moan escaped. “Uh, John you’d better stop.”

“Why you don’t like it?”

John moved his fingers, caressing his ass cheeks.

“Yes, I like it,” he hissed. “But I thought we were going to ride.”

John stepped back, smiling in approval. “Nice package and by the way we are going to ride, but first I’m gonna tease you. Are you up for it?”

His hands trembled more than usual. “Am I going to get what I want?”

John pinched his ass cheek. “I’ve never had a dissatisfied customer to date.”

He looked down, his arousal dampening. “I have. Sex was all about me, until recently.”

John pulled him into his arms. “Maybe you never had the right inspiration. Now, come on I’m itching to go tearing through London with you on the back of my bike.”

He grinned. “Lead on.” His heart beat fast when John took his hand.

When John let go of his hand, his smile faded.

“Here put these gloves on.”

He took the gloves, noting their plush inside didn’t warm him as much as John’s skin had. _It’s as if the loss of contact has chilled my soul._

John stopped, then pushed up his own visor. “What’s up, are you okay?”

He pushed his visor as well. “I’m fine, let’s go.”

“No more poetry?”

He snapped his visor shut. “No.”

John hesitated, then snapped his own visor down, gesturing for him to follow. When they reached the garage, he gasped. John stood proudly in front of a red and blue motorcycle—the colors were the same as his own red cape and blue uniform.

“I had it painted. Do you like it?”

He grinned. “I love it, let’s go.”


	28. He's My Date

Strange sat on the back seat of the bike, looking somewhat awkward. John smiled, _He looks adorable, and so unsure of himself. Damn, he’s sexy, even when he’s not trying._

“John, are you going to just stand there and stare all night, or are we going for a ride?”

“Okay, okay, you’re so impatient. You’re already starting to take on the characteristic of the seat.”

“What?” Strange then looked at him with a puzzled frown on his face.

“You haven’t heard that the passenger seat on a bike is called the bitch seat?”

Strange shook his head, then smiled. “No, I haven’t. So, I’m you’re bitch, am I?”

He grinned, then play swatted at Strange’s crotch. “You’d better believe it, baby.” His eyebrows rose a notch when he glanced between Strange’s legs. “Hmm, looks like I’m going to have to account for some extra weight there.”

Strange laughed, then flipped up the helmet’s visor. “Are we going out or not?”

He watched Strange, then took off his helmet, narrowing the distance between them. “Let me balance you for a minute.” Strange leaned into his touch. He sighed then, began to lick at Strange’s tongue, wishing he could swallow it whole.

“Oy, get a room, you two,” a voice yelled out across the parking garage.

He stopped his oral assault on Strange’s tongue, then shouted back, “Mind your own business and bugger off— cocksucker.”

“Fucking bun boys,” the man yelled, then drove off.

“Bun Boys?” Strange asked.

He put a protective arm around Strange’s waist. “That’s what they call gay guys over here.”

“Bun boys,” Strange mouthed the words, then looked over at him. “But we’re not gay, we’re bi, I guess.”

He mounted the bike, then spoke, his words almost too soft to hear. “Who cares. My love for you has no label.” Then he slammed his visor shut, started the bike, loving the way it’s engine vibrated between his legs, while Strange clung to him. _I swear to god, it feels like my bike and Strange are both throbbing for me. I guess I’ll have to account for some extra weight between my legs as well._ Then he eased opened the throttle, until the bike hummed. _Soon Strange’s body will be humming underneath me as well._ His visor began to fog and he reached up and popped open the ventilation switch in front of his chin, smiling when Strange leaned into him. _It’s as if we’re one being. Why can’t we merge together into one entity?_ A distant siren brought his mind back to the ride. _Gotta keep my head in the game. It wouldn’t do to have Strange’s ass flattened before I get my chance._

When they pulled up in front of a small restaurant, he sighed. _Maybe I should beg Strange to stop time. Would he?_

Strange dismounted and looked back at him. “What? Do I have something on my chin?”

He smirked. “No, but you will by the end of the evening.”

Strange ruffled his hair and smiled. “Your wish is my command, sir.”

“Come on, let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.”

Strange followed him, looking shy when they reached the entrance. He winked at Strange, then held the door open. Strange gave him a half smile, revealing a dimple that creeped up towards the side of his cheek. _So, so cute._

A man walked toward them, smiling. “Doctor Watson, how good to see you.”

He blushed. “Marco, how many times have I told you to call me, John.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” then he turned to Strange. “Do you know this man saved my life?”

Strange’s eyes widened. “Really, do tell.”

“Nope, another time perhaps. We want a nice quiet table in the corner. We have much to discuss.”

“Oh, of course, sure, sure, anything for you and your friend.”

He looked over and took Strange’s hand. “Actually, he’s my date.”

Strange clasped his hand back and Marco beamed. “Your date. Oh, then I will give you the secluded love grotto table where you and your date can have complete privacy.”

He raised his eyebrows, then grinned at Strange. _My date, this gorgeous man beside me is my date, my fucking beautiful date._

They both sat down, then picked up their menus. “So, what’s good?” Strange asked.

“Well, I’m a vegetarian, and I love the vegan macaroni and cheese plate.”

Strange, grinned, then nudged his knee. “That’s right, I forgot that you don’t eat meat.”

He licked his lips, then gave Strange his wet panty stare. “Well, I’ll make an exception in your case.”

Strange opened his mouth, then shut it when  his stockinged foot pushed into an erogenous zone. “How did you get your shoes off so fast?”

“Did you forget that I’m a soldier and I have to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

Strange squeaked. “You’d better stop, or I’m going to lose it.”

He laughed. “I did warn you that I was going to tease you.”

Strange laughed with him. “You did.”

Marco took their order and then they both leaned back, listening to the music. Strange’s eyes misted over.

He took Strange’s hand in his own. “Strange, what is it? Are you okay?”

Strange wiped an errant tear away. “It’s the music. I miss…playing.”

They both looked down at Strange’s shaking hands. “Strange, I’m sorry. I’m not musical, so I have no idea what you’ve lost.”

Strange sniffed, then looked back at him. “It’s okay, I’ve gained so much. I can’t complain. It’s just that when I hear a piece of music, like Chopin, I feel it. I mean…Never mind, it’s stupid.”

He took Strange’s hands in his own. “No, tell me.”

Strange took a deep breath. “It’s like I have musical phantom pains. I can feel the music, how my fingers would move over the keys. It’s as if their smooth surface is mine to command, then my hands start to shake and throb and I am bereft. Every time I experience the conscious loss of my talent, I feel as if I am coming out of my first surgery and staring at my mangled hands. It’s the time warp from hell.”

He didn’t attempt to console Strange with platitudes, he just held his hands in a gentle grasp, allowing them to flutter at will between his own strong fingers.

 


	29. Worth It

Marco looked down at their dishes in dismay. “Was the food not to your liking? You’ve barely touched a morsel.”

Strange looked at John and smiled, shivering when John answered, “We’re not as hungry as we thought, at least not for food.”

Marco looked from one to other and smiled. “Ah, but you will be ravenous later. I will box these up for you, so that you can enjoy them at a more opportune time.” Then he winked at them and left.

Strange blew out a puff of air after he left. “My god, it is that obvious?”

John grinned back. “Whatever do you mean, Strange?”

He blushed. “You know…”

John licked his lips then leaned in towards him. “Oh, do you mean is it obvious that my cock is hard and weeping for you?”

He choked on a sip of water. “Jesus, John say it a little louder. I don’t think the couple in the corner heard you.”

John shrugged. “Okay, fine. Is it obvious…”

He laughed and held a shaking finger to his lips. “John, whatever am I going to do with you?”

John moved closer and whispered into his ear. “Keep me.”

His body trembled, when John ran a hand up his thigh, stopping just before he reached the warm area between his legs. “Come on, let’s pay up and get out of here.”

He nodded, unable to speak. Marco came back and John complemented him on the beautiful job he had performed on the to go packages. “Marco, these look wonderful. Look Strange, they’re shaped into little hearts.”

His mouth felt dry and it became difficult to swallow. _How can he carry on a lucid conversation, when I’m ready to lose my mind?_

John continued to laugh and joke with Marco and just when he thought he could stand no more, John turned to him. “Are you ready to go babe?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded again. Marco laughed when John ran his tongue in a slow swipe along his lower lip. “Well, come on then.”

When the outside air swirled around them, his thoughts began to organize themselves once more. “It was a little warm in there.”

John stopped and looked at him, then sighed. “I’ve fallen hard for you, Strange.”

He blushed, then grinned. “Sorry, maybe it would be better if you loved someone else.”

John’s eyes hardened. “Who said anything about love?”

He felt his whole world implode upon itself. “Oh, umm, what?”

John grinned. “You are so easy. Seriously, Strange, I don’t want to love somebody else—ever.”

John stared into his eyes and the moment stretched into what felt like an eternity. _How many lovers had looked at each other this way over the centuries? How many had felt the way he felt at this moment? Soldiers saying goodbye to their true love, married couples on their honeymoon, first loves, last loves— the lust, the longing, the infidelity, the loss of that first love and all the emotions that came bundled up under the guise of one harmless flirtation. Was it worth it?_ Then he looked into John’s blue eyes and smiled. _Oh, yes, he’s worth it._

John grinned back at him. “Ready to go?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Then he slipped on his helmet, cursing himself when his trembling fingers refused to navigate the chin strap. _I used to be able to put a human spine back together, reattach severed nerves, now look at me._

John took his hands in his own, holding them until the major tremors subsided. “It’s okay, let me do it.”

He moved his head in a curt jerking nod of ascent. _Clumsy, spastic, not graceful, not like I used to be—wasted._

John threaded the strap through its circular buckles, then fastened the snap. “You’re so sexy.”

His knees felt weak, when John stroked his neck.

He encircled John’s wrist between his thumb and index finger. “You make me feel that way Doctor John Hamish Watson.”

John closed his eyes. “Mmm, that lovely bass voice undoes me. My name spoken on your lips is a glorious sound, that I shall never tire of.”

“Even when I’m angry, or when my voice begins to crack and waver with age?”

“Always and forever in any dimension, Strange—forever.”

“Forever,” he echoed, fogging up the visor of his helmet.

John put an arm around his waist. “Come on let’s go. I’ve got a really cool place to show you.”

After they situated themselves on the bike, they raced off into the night. He hung onto John’s waist, getting as close as he could without crowding him. The air rushed through the vents on his helmet, making him feel cold, yet exhilarated at the same time. John wove the bike in and out of the congested traffic, with the ease and grace of a dancer. _It’s as if everyone but us is standing still—like the world has stopped._ He shivered, remembering the last time he had frozen time to save the earth from Dormammu.

The bike came to a screeching halt and he looked around. They appeared to be on a narrow street between two brick buildings. It made him feel claustrophobic. John got off the bike, then helped him dismount, snapping his visor up. “Come on, you’ve got to see this.”

He took John’s hand. When they reached the end of the street, he noticed a large building in front of them. “Wait for it,” John whispered, while he pointed upwards. Clouds obscured their view, then they parted and the light from a full moon illuminated the structure that a moment before had been locked away in darkness.   He gasped. St. Paul’s Cathedral stood before them, a shining white beacon of hope.

John pulled him into an embrace. “I used to come here as a kid and though I can’t explain why, this view always made me feel less…less alone, as if something good waited for me, just around the corner.”

He leaned into John’s arms. “And was something good waiting for you?”

John looked at him, his face a pale oval in the moonlight. “No, not until now.”

_Me? I’m the something good?_

As if reading his thoughts, John took off their helmets, nuzzling his neck when their faces were freed from their polycarbonate prisons. “Yes, Strange, you are by far the something good, that I’ve been waiting for.”

Strange bared his neck, so that John could run his lips and tongue over its uneven surface. “John, John,” he murmured.

“Let’s go home, Strange.”

He bent his head down, reveling when John’s slick salvia settled into the creases of his skin. “Yes, we’re at the point of no return. Take me home and make love to me.”

John nodded, then fastened their chin straps. “My hands are trembling.”

“It’s the adrenaline.”

“Umm, that’s not very romantic. I thought you were supposed to be the poetic one.”

His crotch throbbed, aching for John’s touch. “John, please I’m not going to last long. Take me home and fuck me.”

John laughed, then his expression sobered. “I’m going to take you home, but I’m not going to fuck you. I’m going to make love to you.”

“You look scared.”

John swatted at his butt. “You’re goddamn right I’m scared, now get your luscious ass on the bitch seat pronto.”

He laughed. “Now, that’s the romantic John I know and love.”

“Strange,” John growled.

“Getting on the bitch seat now, sir.”

 


	30. Mine

Strange stood still, allowing John to undo his chin strap. Strange then bent his head down, and slipped the helmet off. When the cool air rushed over Strange’s damp hair, Strange smiled. He moved closer to Strange, kneading his moist scalp with his strong, thick fingers. Strange’s smile faded, lips moving into an oval shape, when his fingers began to massage Strange’s neck.

“You like that?” he whispered, making sure his warm breath tickled the inside of Strange’s ear canal.

Strange nodded. “Fuck, yeah.”

He held out his hand. “Come on let’s get into the flat.” Strange’s fingers curled around his, and he grinned. Their footsteps made loud, clunking noises on the metal steps that led to the front door. _God, this is fucking torture. I’ve got to get him into my bed now. I want to make this good for him. I must slow my heart rate. I don’t want to fuck him hard and fast. I want to…to make it romantic. Fuck, I’ve turned into a big pussy, maybe he wants it hard and fast._

Strange gave him a shy glance, then began to stare at him, with that penetrating gaze of his. _Like a goddamn vampire, waiting to suck me dry._ He wanted to say something sexy, then he dropped his keys. “Shit.”

Strange bent down picked them up, presenting them to him with the ring looped around his shaking index finger. He leaned forward to take them, then changed his mind, sticking Strange’s finger in his mouth instead. Strange made a growling noise, then took control. He gasped, when Strange grabbed the back of his neck holding it steady, so that the key ring rested against his lips. When Strange moved his finger in and out and around his tongue, he gasped. _Fuck, whose seducing who?_

Strange flinched, when a tooth grazed his scarred finger.

“Shit, did I hurt you?”

Strange shook his head, continuing to stare at him, while he fumbled to open the door. He ushered Strange inside, then shut the door. Brownie came to meet them, wagging his tail. Strange bent down to pick him up, kissing the top of his head. “Good boy.”

He watched them both and a lump rose in his throat. _They’re beautiful._

Strange laughed, attempting to avoid Brownie’s attempts to kiss back.

“See? I’m not the only one who wants to stick his tongue in that lovely mouth of yours.”

Strange dodged Brownie’s pink tongue once more, then set him on the ground. He laughed at Strange, then called Brownie over, checked his food dish, and held out his hand. Strange melted into his embrace and he smiled in contentment when Strange’s angular chin rested on the top of his head. _Like we were meant to be—always and forever._

He heard a slight fluttering, then felt his body being squeezed into Strange’s. “What the hell?”

Strange’s nose pressed up against his own and when he spoke, his voice had a nasal whine. “It’s the cape.” The cape wrapped its folds around them, then flew into the bedroom, holding their bodies in a tight embrace. When it released them, Strange stumbled, falling against him. He smiled, then steadied him and began to remove his clothing. Strange trembled, but stood firm, while each garment fell from his body to the floor.

He led Strange to the bed. Strange looked up at him, then leaned back. He watched, while Strange jack knifed his legs, spread them wide, then put them together and back out again, settling on a modified lotus position.

“I’m not sure what to do.” Strange mumbled.

He finished taking off his own clothes, then joined Strange on the bed, moving his legs to fit in between. Strange’s body tensed.

“It’s okay, Strange, relax, let me lead you.”

He pushed Strange’s legs apart, but not before he stroked each quivering muscle, naming them in his head. _This is much better than the memory games I played in med school to memorize the muscular structure of the human thigh. Where were you then, Strange? Where were you?_

Strange moaned beneath him, his body open and inviting. He took a deep breath, then paused. _The welcome mat’s open, what are you waiting for? Drill him, sink in._  His breathing became labored and his hands shook when he reached for the lube. A fine sheen of sweat stood out on Strange’s forehead. He moistened his fingers, then stopped. _This had to be better—better than just a quick fuck. It had to perfect. John, focus, NOW. If you keep this up, you’re going to underperform before you get a chance to overperform. Breathe._

He bent down, burying his face in Strange’s neck, kissing, licking and nibbling the places Strange loved best. Strange wrapped an arm around his neck, bringing him closer. He paused, then took Strange’s earlobe between his teeth, sucking on it in a gentle rhythm. Strange pulsed beneath him, until he inserted a lubed finger in. Strange tensed. He looked down at Strange’s flushed face and rubbed their swollen cocks together.

“Oh fuck,” Strange moaned, then began to bear down on his fingers. He allowed Strange to adjust to the different sensations, before he pulled them out. Strange looked back at him, his eyes glazed. _Fuck he looks hot and stoned._

Strange bit his lower lip. “John, stop teasing. I want you in me now. I don’t care how much it hurts.”

Strange grabbed the lube and began slathering the object of his torment. He let Strange guide him in. _What if I hurt him? My cock is fucking huge compared to his little hole. I’ve never cared about size before. What the hell’s wrong with me?_ He fitted the end of his cock in, then all hell broke loose. His hands began to burn and he cried out in agony. “Strange, my protection mode is taking over. Its attacking me to keep you from feeling pain. I’m going to have to shield us, be ready to project out of your body.” He raised his hands and an aqua colored pattern surrounded them. Then he felt Strange’s thumbs on the center of his forehead, and they both floated out of their temporal bodies and into the astral plane.

A cooling sensation soothed his skin and Strange held him close. They floated in each other’s arms, looking down at their flesh doppelgangers, their eyes closed, resting in each other’s arms. He looked at Strange, easing one leg over his shoulder, then he pushed in. Though not as invasive as the temporal plane, he could still feel Strange’s inside tightening around his cock. _Down deep, that’s how Strange will be mine, penetrating his body, his mind and his soul, merging together forever._  He pumped his hips a few times, then whispered into Strange’s ear. “I could stay this way forever, but my protection mode is under control thanks to you, so let me show you what making love on the temporal plane is like.”

Strange looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “Teach me, how to love,” he whispered.

He had no time to contemplate Strange’s words after they slammed back into their temporal bodies, his cock buried balls deep in Strange’s willing, tender spot. He pumped deeper, and deeper, while Strange swore in different vernaculars. Strange’s eyes rolled upwards. He felt his pelvis tighten. A vein stood out on his forehead, then his body gave up the fight and released into Strange’s.


	31. Priority=Option

Strange’s body twitched, then he sat up. _Where am I?_ He didn’t recognize his surroundings and his arm spasmed hitting John in the face.

John held him tight. “It’s alright, you’re here with me, you’re safe.”

He looked down at his trembling hands, ashamed at their betrayal. _I’m clumsy, not graceful as I once was._

As if reading his mind, John stroked the side of his face. “Sssh, don’t think of it. You’re my Doctor, my Doctor Strange.”

“Not a strange Doctor?”

“Mmm, yes but in a way, that’s wonderful.”

“What time is it? How long have I been asleep?”

“A couple of hours.”

He felt panic descend on him, threatening to choke off his air supply. “What? We only have 24 hours and what do I do but fall asleep?”

John draped an arm around him in a possessive grasp. “Relax, Strange, it’s okay. I’ve never seen anyone fall asleep so beautifully after sex.”

“You make me sound like a princess.”

John sucked on his bottom lip, then lowered one hand, smiling when it found its target. “Beautiful yes, princess no. I love fondling your balls.” Then John looked at him. “Seriously, are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

He returned John’s gaze. “No, I never felt that kind of… of…”

“Ball wrenching orgasm?”

He laughed, letting one knee fall to the side. “John, you always have such a poetic way to describe things.”

“Come on, let’s hop into the shower, I want to explore.”

He watched John, jump off the bed and his heart fluttered in his chest when John held out his hand. “Come on, I just got some new body wash.”

He looked at the hand being offered to him and slipped his feeble fingers into its strong clasp. _John, I am the east and you are the sun. He brightens everything. If this is love, then why does it hurt so much and why am I elated and afraid at the same time? I want to hide, scream, run, punch something, then sink into his arms, until oblivion dulls my senses and I am nothing more than a lump of flesh—a lump of flesh that turns to bone and dissolves into dust, swirling around him while he breathes me in._

“So, what do you think of the shower curtain? Strange? Hey, earth to Strange, come in.”

He blinked, imagining that the crust in his eyelids to be dust instead of normal sleep residue. “Um, what?”

“The shower curtain, what do you think of it?”

He blinked again, then looked at the curtain. It had smiley faces all over it. He laughed.

“Remember that day?”

“How could I forget? You kept telling me to smile and I told you that sorcerer supremes don’t smile.

John grinned, then pulled him into an embrace. “And what happened next, Strange?”

He sighed. “I woke up with a happy face drawn on my ass in an alarming shade of red lipstick.”

“What did you think when you discovered it?”

“Well, I was furious at first, then I wanted to punish you.”

“And just how did you want to punish me, Master Strange?”

He could feel his pulse quicken, when John reached through the folds of the plastic curtain to test the temperature of the water. “I wanted to make you lick it off.”

John rose and looked back him. “Come on the water is fine and I’ll be more than happy to accept my punishment now.”

He shivered, and allowed John to pull him into the shower. Chill bumps appeared on his arms, when John began to lather him down with soap. _Fuck, I’m going to lose it, his fingers and hands are everywhere. I must gain some semblance of control._ “Um, I thought you told me that you like your showers warmer, the temperature of this water is lukewarm.”

John grinned, but continued to suds him up. “I know that hot water, makes your hands ache.”

He rested his pelvis on John’s hip bone. “How did you know? I’ve never told anyone that and it’s not in my medical files.”

“The day I first met you after I collapsed, you washed me off, I heard you gasp in pain when your hands touched the basin with the hot water in it.”

“You were supposed to be unconscious.”  

“Well, I mostly was.”

“Mostly?”

“Okay, I was semi-conscious, but I knew without being told that your pain equaled mine. At first, I felt relieved that someone else knew agony the way I’d come to, but then it made my head spin. I felt nauseous. You know I never thought about it until now, but I think it was your pain that made me pass out.”

He stroked John’s moist cheek, watching while beads of water ran into his eyes, then he gathered him into his arms. “Even then the forces of the universe were pulling us together, making you the priority of my heart.”

“I thought your soul belonged to the sanctum.”

“Putting the fight against darkness first is my cause, but you are the priority of my heart and I am your option.”

“My option for what?”

“Everything. Never allow someone to be your priority without allowing yourself to be their option.”

John swallowed. “Strange, that was beautiful, you should write.”

He smiled. “I can’t take credit for everything, it was actually Mark Twain that said that.”

“Well, it was lovely none the less. Now, let’s get you washed up, because someone is going to get the best blow job of his life, a quote from the immortal words of John Watson.”

Then John took control, washing his body, his arms, legs, torso, and finally he bent his head, while John washed his hair. After the last suds slid down the drain, John pulled him into an embrace, draping one arm around his waist, resting the other across his neck. He bowed his head, allowing John to maintain a possessive grip on his neck, while John’s fingers splayed across the surface of his skull. Though it felt like a choke hold, he considered it not an act of restraint, but an act of protection and possession. _You are my priory and I am your option, in every dimension—forever._


	32. Where My Heart Is

_I’ve given head before, not my usual practice but I’ve done it. It’s never been like this. Look at him. He is sublime._ John spared one more look at Strange’s face—a mask contorted in passion, eyebrows furrowed, lips red and parted, head thrown back revealing a white neck, its surface smooth, like alabaster.  _He is mine._

Strange looked down at him, eyes glazed. “John, I’m going to…”

He suctioned his lips tighter around Strange’s cock, not willing to waste a ribbon of come that spurted into his mouth. _So, thick, so salty, so good, umm…_

“John,” Strange slurred, then leaned back against the tiled wall, his face pale and drawn.

“Strange, whoa, whoa, whoa,” he blurted out when Strange’s body slumped sideways. He forgot about his own imminent release and steadied Strange, lowering him to the floor.

Strange’s eyes fluttered open. “What happened?”

“I sucked you off until you passed out. Now looked at me.”

Strange did as ordered, which sent a shiver down his spine. _He is so powerful and yet he just took an order from me like a junior officer. Everything he does turns me on. John, focus, you have a potential patient in front of you. Check his pulse for god’s sake, check his pupils for abnormal dilation, be a Doctor for fuck’s sake._ He put a finger to his lips, and checked Strange’s pulse. “Strange look at my hand, and follow the finger I am holding up.”

Strange grinned, then did as instructed. “I’m fine and I didn’t pass out.”

Satisfied that Strange was stable, he sighed. “Okay, swooned, then.”

“No, I didn’t swoon either.”

“Fine, have it your way. When was the last time you had something to eat and don’t count the few bites we had at the restaurant.”

Strange closed his eyes. “Um, yesterday? No, maybe it was the day before.”

“God damnit Strange, why do you have to carry on like you’re a fucking monk on a hunger strike?”

Strange sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. “You have no idea the amount of energy that it took to get me here. My mind has to be clear and fasting is the most efficient way to achieve superior inter dimensional skills.”

John looked down at the ground, then back at Strange. “You look cold, come here.”

Strange pushed himself off the slick floor, stood up, then shivered. He grabbed a towel out of the cupboard and draped it around Strange. “Come on, I’ll find you a robe or something to wrap up in.”

Strange nodded, then he grabbed a robe out of his dresser and handed it to Strange. Strange held it up for inspection, then put it on, pulling down on the hem. “It’s a little short, isn’t it?”

He grinned, then reached beneath its folds, tickling Strange’s balls. “Better access.”

Strange giggled. “Stop.”

_Oh my god, how cute. He’s ticklish._  He went back for a second round, letting his fingers flutter over Strange’s scrotum, then he stopped, his expression sobering when Strange pulled him close. “John, stop that now,” Strange murmured, blowing a puff of humid air into his ear canal.

“Okay, so you’re going to cheat. You know how I love it when you blow into my ear. It renders me helpless.”

Strange grinned. “I know.”

He reached for Strange’s belt, with a playful tug, hoping it would lead to a tussle, then stopped. “You still look pale, let’s heat up our left overs, then we can play wrestle.”

Strange’s head lowered, releasing a lock of hair.

_God, he looks gorgeous, like a fucking model, handsome, powerful, yet vulnerable._

Strange stared back at him. “What?”

When Strange reached up to move the lock of hair back into place, he stopped him. “Don’t, just stand still. I want to remember you this way.”

Strange shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “You want to remember me in a skimpy little bathrobe?”

“No, I want to remember the love of my life and his face when I tell him I love him and that when I face the dark days that lie ahead, I will always remember this moment and that stray lock of hair.”

Tears formed in Strange’s eyes, then the tenderness fled. “John, you will never be alone. I will always be with you. War is coming, but never fear you are in my heart, burned into the deepest sinews of my soul. John, let’s end this, let’s draw a small amount of power from the dark side and kill Mordo.”

“Strange, what are you saying? You know we can’t do that without the risk of turning evil.”

Strange stepped forward, gritting his teeth. “The Ancient One drew power from the dark side and she was good. Together we can do it, John—together.”

He backed away from Strange, then looked down. “Strange, we can’t. As much as I want to be with you every day for the rest of our lives, we can’t kill Mordo. We can’t put ourselves first—Stephen.”

He then reached forward, holding Strange in his arms, with a secret wish that the earth would explode in a burning mass of destruction, fusing together their bodies, then their souls.   They swayed in each other’s embrace, then he pulled away.

“Come on, Strange, let’s heat up the leftovers and enjoy the rest of our 24 hours.”

Strange nodded, then straightened the stray lock of hair back into place.

He watched the process, fascinated by the way Strange’s delicate fingers coiled around the dark strand, tucking it away, and though he tried, he couldn’t distinguish it from the other strands that lay slick against Strange’s scalp.

Strange took his hand and they made their way to kitchen, where they were greeted by Brownie and the cape.

He laughed. “It seems that our children are happy to see us.”

Strange laughed with him. “Yes, they are. You feed Brownie and I will heat up our food. Where do you keep the pots and pans?”

He smirked. “Pots and pans? You’ve got to be joking. Just grab a plate and cook them in the microwave.”

“Umm, I’d rather heat them on the stove. I don’t like microwaves.”

“Come on, Strange, try something new.”

Strange brushed some dust from the stove burners. “I don’t like trying new things.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Uh, Strange, you just had my cock up your ass and I’d yours in my mouth, so I’d say you’re pretty open to new things.”

Strange’s cheeks turned pink. “Point well taken. I will nuke the food.”

“Not too much, I like my macaroni and cheese, creamy.”

Strange looked down, then undid the foil hearts that Marco had wrapped their pasta in. “What did it taste like?”

He glanced at Strange, then grinned. “What did what taste like?”

A flush crept along Strange’s neck. “You know.”

He assumed a look of innocence. “No, I don’t.”

“What did my stuff taste like?”

“Oh, you mean your come, jizz, manjuice, elixir of ….”

“John, stop what did it taste like?”

He grinned. “Very salty, thick, creamy and very, very good. Are you curious about the taste? Well, let’s get you some nourishment, then maybe I can oblige.”

Strange looked unsure. “I’m not sure how to go about it? I don’t want to bite you or gag, or anything.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry I’ll teach you.” Then he frowned. “By the way, what did you mean when you asked me to teach you how to love?”

Strange looked down. “I don’t remember saying that.”

He grabbed Strange’s hand. “You have a photographic memory, now what did you mean?”

Strange looked back at him. “I’ve never loved anyone but myself. I’m not sure I know how.”

He looked into Strange’s green eyes.“Every time I think of you I want to smile, laugh, cry, vomit, scream, make love to you, and take care of you. I feel strong and scared at the same time. It’s wonderful and horrible.”

Strange smiled. “I do all that to you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I must be in love with you as well, because you’ve had my stomach in an uproar since the day I first laid eyes on you.”

He swatted Strange on the butt. “Come on get cooking, we have lots of ground to cover and I need my strength.”

Strange arched an eyebrow. “Yes, sir.”


	33. Strange Imprint

Strange watched John while he cleared their dishes, then smiled. John turned around and looked at him. “What?”

“You were humming.”

John blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“No, I liked it. What tune was it? I didn’t recognize it.”

John shrugged. “Who the fuck knows?”

He smirked. “Funny, I don’t know that one.”

John put their bowls to the side of the sink, then leaned against it. “I wanted to be a DJ and a songwriter when I was young. Sometimes the music still slips out.”

He walked over to John, then put an arm around his waist. “What happened?”

John’s stomach hardened under his touch. “I wasn’t good enough, but god knows I tried. I auditioned for every band, coffee house and club that would listen, then one day I realized that some doors weren’t meant to be opened.”

He stroked the side of John’s face. “I’m sorry. So, what does one do when dreams fail?”

John laughed. “I became a Doctor, then joined the military.”

He looked at smile with a sad smile. “I always wanted to be a Doctor. When I worked my up to the top neurosurgeon in my profession, I knew all my hard work had paid off. My dreams were finally realized. Then one night…. well you know the rest. I thought my world had ended. Then you came into my life.”

“And then you knew you hit rock bottom.”

He slipped his hands beneath John’s robe, following the natural V shape from his hip bones to the inside of his thighs. “No, John, when you came into my life I woke up, grateful to the forces that brought us together. Every day of my life is fraught with pain, regret and loneliness. The only thing that makes those things bearable is knowing you exist in the same universe. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Not even to have your old life back?”

“What life, John? I was dead before I met you. Now, weren’t you going to teach me blowjob 101, or at the very least sing me the words of your song?”

John licked his lips, looked down then back up again. “Strange, umm, there’s something I want to ask you and I’m not sure how to begin.”

He stroked John’s cheek. “What is it? You can ask anything of me.”

John looked away then back at him. “I want to imprint you.”

He frowned. “Imprint? You mean mark your territory?”

“You make it sound as if I want to piss on or hump your leg. Strange, you know what I’m asking. If it’s too much, then say so, I’ll be okay with it. I promise.” When he didn’t answer, John nodded. “Okay, right then. Forget I brought it up. Let’s have some fun. Strange?”

His throat felt raw and swollen. _How can John want me in this way? Imprinting is a huge deal, much more than a marriage contract. He loves me. He wants to make me his sorcerer—his lover for all time._

“Strange, are you okay?”

He nodded, still looking down, afraid he would burst into tears. “I’m fine and I would be honored to have you imprint me, but are you sure you want me? I come with baggage, lots of it. I have enemies, being tied to me will be a burden.”

John pulled him close. “Any burden you have I will gladly accept, especially if it’s hard.”

He laughed. “John, your eloquence never ceases to amaze me.”

John’s expression sobered. “Are you sure about this?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

John searched his face, then smiled. “Okay, I’ll get the bedroom ready. Play with Brownie and the cape and I’ll come and get you when I’m ready.”

After John left the room, he looked around, then spied his target—a tattered tennis ball. He picked it up and Brownie scrambled across the tiled floor, his legs sliding out from underneath him, while he attempted to get traction. “Come, on boy, come and get it.” Brownie danced on his hind legs, then jumped up and caught the ball in mid-air. “Good boy, now catch this.” He then threw the ball higher and to his delight, Brownie caught it again.

The cape, drifted into the room and began to take its turn at snatching the ball. He laughed, grabbing for the ball, then grimacing when its slimy surface contacted his cheek. When he bent down to pick up the ball, he paused, wondering whether his shaking hand would be able to grasp it.  Then he noticed John and forgot about everything else. John stood in the doorway, looking resplendent in a green sorcerer uniform. “John, you look wonderful. I’ve never seen you in full uniform.” John gave him a military salute and his head felt light. _God, he’s hot when he stands at attention. I would love to see him in his military uniform._

John held out his hand. “Are you ready?”

He reached towards John’s hand. “Yes.”

When they reached the door, John grinned. “Welcome, to our own private sanctum.”

He gaped at the room in wonder. “How did you make this transformation so quickly?”

John let go of his hand and patted him on the back. “I just tidied up a bit.”

When Brownie squeezed in past him, he started to shoo him out.

“No, let him and the cape stay for this first part.”

He nodded, then the cape and Brownie nudged their way in. Several lit candles flickered on the dresser, their light reflected in a mirror making the room appear spacious.  “Do I keep my robe on?”

“Nope, I want you dressed in your uniform. I have it right here.” He started to reach for it, but John stopped him. “No, let me dress you, it’s part of the bonding process.”

He stood still, while John undid his robe, then slipped it off. “This feels a little awkward, me just standing here in front of…everyone.”

“You are in front of those who love you without reservation. You are safe.”

He blinked, swallowed, then looked down. John approached him, lifting his chin with two fingers. “Eyes on me, okay?”

He looked down at John and smiled, his eyes straying to a small clock on the nightstand. “Strange, don’t look at the clock. Remember according to Einstein there is no such thing as time. Eyes on me.”

“Always.”

“Here are your boxers and trousers. Hold on to my shoulder for balance.”

He held onto John’s shoulder, wobbling back and forth, while he slipped on his boxers, then his trousers.

John smiled at him, then tied the drawstring waist. “Is that too tight?”

“No.”

“Good, because I want you to be comfortable.” John then handed him his tunic. He slipped it around his shoulders, shivering when John took his time buttoning each fastener. John then motioned to the cape and it draped itself around his shoulders. “God, Strange, you look perfect. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he whispered.


	34. Only Time Will Tell

John raised his hands in a circle, then pushed them forward, causing a greenish, blue shield to appear. He looked down at Strange and smiled. Strange returned the smile. He then ran his hands over Strange’s body, allowing energy to flow through each chakra point. Strange responded to his touch by pushing up against his fingertips. _You are mine Strange and I am yours, together forever in every dimension._ His thoughts faltered, when he reached Strange’s battered hands. _Maybe I can help him—heal him._ He focused all his power on Strange’s trembling fingers. _You are mine and I will make you whole._ Sweat poured down his forehead, dripping into his eyes, and veins stood out on his neck. _Strange surrender your pain to me._ His heart beat accelerated, causing his breath to come out in short pants. Though he could feel his skin starting to burn, he continued, then stopped when he heard Strange cry out.

“John, stop, you’re burning me.”

His eyes flew open and he stopped, looking down at the red, angry welts that doted the skin on Strange’s pale scarred hands. “Strange, I’m sorry. I thought that if I concentrated that I could take away your pain. Let me get my bearings, then we’ll continue if you still want to.”

Strange nodded and looked up at him. _Damn those haunting green eyes._ _They’ve pierced my soul— Strange._ He then took a deep breath and began again. His body began to relax, while it adjusted. He reached his spectral fingers through each of Strange’s chakra points, reveling in each bubble of power. _They’re like the Bailey’s beads effect—Strange my eclipse—my totality—my sun._

He ran his hands up and down Strange’s arms, then pressed his thumbs against Strange’s forehead—his third eye. Together they floated through different dimensions, some benevolent and peaceful, and others malevolent and full of malice, stopping to let a butterfly land on their entwined hands. When they began to come back to their own dimension, he gasped when a colorful DNA helix appeared before their eyes, then another lined up with the first. They lined up with each other, swirling around until they merged. _Strange and I are one, together forever, nothing can separate us. Nothing._

He opened his eyes. Strange shifted beneath him, remaining silent. “I could stay this way forever,” he whispered, tracing Strange’s jaw with his index finger.

Strange nodded, then rolled over, curling up in a ball. He pulled him into a tight embrace. They lay locked in each other’s arms, their bodies tensing with each click of the clock.

“John.”

He rubbed the back of his hand along Strange’s beard. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For rescuing me.”

He kissed Strange behind the ear. “If anybody rescued anybody, it was you who rescued me. I was so alone before I met you. I had no one.”

“Nonsense, you’re adorable.”

“No, I’m not adorable. No one has ever said that about me.”

“Then it’s time someone did. John you’re adorable, funny, loyal, and wonderful in every way possible and I love you more than life itself.”

Tears filled his eyes. “Strange, I swear to fucking god, you’re going to make me cry.”

Strange laughed. “John, you can defuse any situation with that quirky wit of yours.”

He smiled, then moved a lock of hair out of Strange’s eyes. “Yeah, I learned to do that when I was in care.”

Strange’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry, it must have been difficult.”

He nodded. “It was. I guess my childhood was pretty lonely.”

Strange sighed. “Mine too.”

The sound of the ticking clock filled the room, making it the focal point. He looked at the face of their enemy—time. “It’s five minutes after 8. We have just a few hours left.”

Strange snuggled close to him. “I know, I can feel it in my heart—my soul.”

He kissed the nape of Strange’s neck. “Don’t think about it. You are part of me now and even though we will be apart, our spirits will remain forever entwined. So, let’s make use of the time we have left and remember we will see each next year.”

Strange reached back and grabbed his hand. “So, do you want to talk?”

He took Strange’s hand in his own. “Hell, no you owe me a blow job, remember?”

Strange sighed. “Horney, horney, John, your wish is my command, but let’s listen to some music first.”

He reached over, grabbed his phone off the nightstand, then pulled up his playlist. Before he could react, Strange snatched the phone out of his hands. “So, let’s see what John Watson has on his playlist.” Strange pulled up the list, then his eyebrows rose in surprise. “A Chopin Nocturn? I’m impressed. I must be wearing off on you.”

Strange pushed the play button, then closed his eyes. “This is the Nocturn that I played for a college recital.”

“I know. I downloaded the video from your alma mater website. If it brings back too many sad memories, just skip it.”

“No,” Strange whispered, “each note I’ve lost has brought you closer to me.”

“Christ, Strange, you are an eloquent, sensitive creature.”

“Umm, just think how those sensitive qualities apply to my tongue and lips. Though I’m a novice, I do believe you’re in for a treat, John Watson.”

He pinned Strange underneath him. “No, you’re the one that’s in for a treat. Once you taste me, you will crave me, guaranteed.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I have it on good authority that I taste marvelous.” He felt Strange tense. “Are you jealous. Strange?”

Strange’s pale cheeks flushed, and he grinned. “A little.”

He slipped the top of his uniform off, his eyes never leaving Strange’s. “Don’t be. The thought of the red, hot passion that will begin to coil in my stomach, tightening my groin, then releasing into your mouth makes my whole being shake. It’s going to be better than the first time.”

Strange looked at him in wonder. “Now, who’s the eloquent one?”

“You are me and I am you. Complete at last. Now, enough of this sexy talk. I want to take this slow. I want it to feel like a lifetime.”

“It will last a lifetime, John. I will never forget this moment—my love, never.” He then walked over and grabbed the belt from his robe and tied each end to a bedpost.

“Umm, is this going to get…rough?”

“Relax Strange, this is so I don’t arch off the bed and into the roof of your mouth.”

Strange gave him a half-lipped smile. “Okay, that’s cleared up.”

He grinned, then put two pillows on the floor near the foot of the bed. “Kneel on those and see if they’re comfortable.”

Strange kneeled down and after a few adjustments, nodded. “Okay, I’m comfy, but shouldn’t you be standing?”

He smirked. “You’ve been watching a lot of porn, Strange. It’s starting to worry me. I have no intention of slamming my cock into your mouth, while I pull on your hair, ignoring your attempts to breathe. I want to enjoy this. I want it to be romantic and it won’t be if you are gagging the entire time.”

Strange laughed. “Oh, John, no one could ever accuse you of being insincere.”

He took off his pants, beckoning Strange towards him. “Come here.”

Strange came forward, then kneeled, looking up at him. “Jesus, Strange you look so angelic, like you’re going to be taking communion.”

Strange made a clucking noise in the back of his throat. “That’s very irreverent of you, John. What would your priest say?”

He reached down, ruffling Strange’s hair. “You are forgiven my son?”

Strange groaned. “Oh, so, so naughty.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. Strange inched closer. He ran his fingers through Strange’s hair.

Strange closed his eyes, enjoying his touch. “Should I take my clothes off as well? I don’t want to come in…”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to put a damper on your libido, because after I come, I want you to fuck me, not just the aftermath of your arousal from pleasuring me, but a full-on penetration, long and hard.  Make me yours, Strange.” Then he reached between Strange’s legs. “You’re going to feel a tightness in your groin. Just breathe deep and you’ll adjust, then after you’re comfortable we’ll begin. Ready?” Strange nodded. “Oh, and one more thing, if anything about this whole process makes you uncomfortable or grosses you out, be honest and we’ll stop. Okay? Strange? Okay?”

“Okay.”

***

First Strange felt John’s fingers pushing on his groin area, then he felt a tight, numbing sensation. “Jesus, did you just freeze my nuts off?”

“No, I would never waste such precious commodities.”

They laughed together, a sound that he would never tire of. _If I should live to be a hundred, I will never forget the sound of his laughter—John, my soldier, my doctor, my love._ He watched while John fondled himself. _I should get in there, but I love watching him get himself off._

John leaned back, and opened his legs. _He looks so open and vulnerable. He takes my breath away. How I love him._

He took John’s hardened cock between his trembling fingers. In slow motion, he bent down and kissed its swollen tip. John’s body trembled, he reached over and pushed the play button on his music app.

He stopped and looked up. “John, you have the worst timing. A challenge round now?”

John began to laugh. “This is our song, tell me what is it?”

“Jeans On, by David Dundas on Naughty but Nice.” He looked at John, then grinned. “Thanks, for helping me relax. I was starting to feel a bit tense.”

“I know. It’s okay if you want to stop.”

He gave John a wicked glare, then began to swirl his tongue around the tip of John’s cock.

“Oh, Christ, Strange you’re going to kill me. You may just be the anti-christ.”

He grinned, then continued with his work—pleasuring John. John shivered under his touch. He paused. “Any tips for me, John?”

“God, no, you seem to be a natural, just remember to cover your teeth with your lips.”

He bent down, demonstrating John’s instructions. “Yes, Strange, that’s it. Fuck, that feels fucking marvelous. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

He didn’t answer. John’s cock slid in between his lips and he reveled in its thickness. He wanted to swallow him whole. John pulled up on the robe belt and pulsed in his mouth. He breathed in through his nose, determined to remain calm. _I don’t want to waste a drop of his precious come._

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long—Strange.”

John’s cock jerked, then thick ribbons of warm liquid hit the back of Strange’s throat. He coughed, swallowed, moved his head back to get air, then took the tip of John’s cock, milking the remnants into his own mouth. Come coated, his lips and ran down his chin. _I’m a slippery mess and I don’t care. I thought going down on him would be a chore, but oh god it’s wonderful. Jesus, there’s more. Every drop is mine—every drop._ When he sucked John’s tip dry, he looked at its clean slit in disappointment. He licked a few more times to make certain, then gazed into John’s glazed eyes. They shinned and their color appeared lighter than usual.

“Come here,” John whispered, his voice hoarse.

Strange approached the head of the bed, where John handed him a clean towel. He wiped his face, then John’s cock. Once they were clean, John smiled. “Someone likes sucking dick, don’t they?”

He smiled, unable to answer. John smiled back, then reached forward and released the numbing spell that held his groin in limbo. Blood rushed into his lower extremities, leaving him breathless. He sank to the ground, palming his erection. John spread his legs and reached for him. “Make love to me Strange.”

He grabbed the bottle of lube on the nightstand, preparing himself, then he stretched John’s opening and eased himself in.

John’s head snapped back and his hips pushed forward to meet Strange’s deep, slow thrusts. The slapping of skin and their groans, drowned out the sound of the ticking clock. He held John’s arms down, thrusting deeper into the warmth presented to him. John grabbed the back of his ass, pulling him in.

He sucked on John’s earlobe, then his neck, scaping his teeth against the skin, while maintaining his pelvic rhythm.

His balls pulled up, a precursor to his release. He tried holding back to prolong the moment, but his body had other ideas and with one primal scream, he shuddered while his muscles shivered through a burst of orgasmic throes. He collapsed on top of John, wanting to weep when he heard the clock chime another hour of their time away.  

They rested in each other’s arms without saying a word, while John rubbed his arms. After a few moments, John stopped,” Do you want me to rub your back?”

He nodded, not wanting John to see the tears that were starting to flow from his eyes. “Strange, it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay. After all we’re sorcerers, we’ve got this—Strange.”

He rolled over, putting his forehead against John’s. “We’ve got this, John.”

“Come on, let’s get a shower and get cleaned up. Wong will be pissed if you show up, covered in come.”

He laughed. “John, you’re a prick.”

“Ooh, your favorite word. It makes your mouth water.”

He grabbed John and they play wrestled on the bed. Just when he thought he was going to get the upper hand, John found a ticklish spot.

“That’s not fair,” he said, while he tried to wriggle free.

In the shower, they squirted gel soap, then splashed water on each other. John began to laugh and couldn’t stop. “I haven’t had this much since I was a kid.”

He caught his breath, then sighed, “Me neither.”

“You want to talk, then watch a movie?”

He looked at John. “What movie?”

“Umm, a western.” John laughed.

“No fucking way.”

“Okay, how about we watch clips from each other’s favorite movies?”

He grinned, at John. “Okay, you’re on.”

***

The movies were over, the passion diffused, now came the hard part— the goodbye, John thought. Strange stood in front of him, dressed in his uniform. Neither looked at the clock. “There’s no need for a count down. I can feel it in my heart.”

“Me too,” Strange whispered.

They held each other tight, and Strange whispered, “I’ll follow you into the Dark.” Then he was gone.

Brownie whined at his feet and John stood still. When he finally moved, every muscle protested from lack of use. A letter rested at his feet. He bent down and picked it up, then sniffed it. “Like sex and Christmas.”

_Dearest John, this past 24 hours has been amazing. I am alive at last. There is a war coming and though you won’t be by my side, you are in my heart. Someday Mordor’s evil curse on you will be broken and we will be able to hold each other daily. Until that time, we will have to be content with one day a year. You have taught me how to love and how to live. I will live for you. You don’t need time to tell me how much I love you. There is no such thing as time, according to Einstein, but there is such a thing as love and mine will endure for you forever. I am yours in every dimension—Strange_

Tear dripped down John’s cheek and he wiped them away with one hand. “I love you too—Strange. Thanks for making me cry—you fucker.” Then he laughed, shook his head and looked out the window. Ominous clouds floated in front of the moonlight, threatening to block out its light. _The light will never leave my universe as long as Strange is alive, so threaten all you want. I’m a soldier and I will fight and together Strange and I will win._


End file.
